


Down an Open Road

by TheMedJack



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Artist Newt, Confessions, Depression, Late Nights, M/M, Memory Loss, Poor Thomas, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Soulmate-Identifying Timers, architect thomas, inner demons (sorry), major angst, minho is a good friend(tm) and a dork, teresa is the mom friend(tm), thomas has retrograde amnesia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2018-08-11 02:31:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 37,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7872544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMedJack/pseuds/TheMedJack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Please tell me what's wrong, Tommy," The blonde muttered, an increasing look of worry on his face. "Does it hurt?" </p>
<p>Thomas frowned, staring into his dark eyes, and spoke in a raspy voice. </p>
<p>"Who are you?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Out of the Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> So here I am, starting another fic instead of finishing my other ones first. I just...couldn't resist this idea. So now that I have three fics to work on simultaneously, here's how this is gonna play out: 
> 
> The layout for the sequel to Where it All Began is all ready to go, it just has to be written at this point. With Everything Old is New Again, I have about five chapters stocked up in addition to the two already posted. And with this story I just have some of the layout and the first chapter done. 
> 
> And since I'm leaving for school soon, I'll be much busier with my work. So my updates will probably be much more sporadic and irregular, but hopefully I'll be able to post for you guys a few times. I also just want to let you know that even though updates will be slower for now, these fics will not be abandoned! Thanks for being so patient. And, as always, thanks for reading <3
> 
> *I do not own The Maze Runner or any of its characters

No matter how hard he tried, all he could see was the blackness that stretched out in front of him. 

There was no sky, no ground. 

Only himself. 

He was conscious that he was there, although he had no clue as to what this place was, or where it was. Or who _he_ was. 

He spent most of his time walking around, unable to determine which direction he was heading. It's all he really could do. He couldn't feel anything, or taste anything. His nose picked up no scent, and his ears no sound. He couldn't even hear the echo of his footsteps as he walked along, treading through the air. 

Sometimes he tried to think. Tried to remember. But all that ever came to him was the same, single feeling. It was almost like an instinct, the way it pulled him forward, deeper into the nothingness. 

He didn't know why he felt it, or what it meant, but he knew that there had to be a reason for it. So he figured that if he kept walking, he'd discover it. 

He just had to keep moving. So that's what he did. 

It was hard to tell how long he pushed forward, eyes glued on the nonexistent horizon that lay before him. The world he was in never changed, so he had no concept of time. No grasp as to how many minutes, hours, or even days he'd spent adrift. 

But he waited. 

He just had to keep moving. 

Luckily, his feet never hurt from all of the strain on his body. Nor did he ever grow tired. So, he continued to push on. At times, the darkness almost overwhelmed him. It was all he'd ever seen in this world, but he knew there had to be more to it. Somewhere. 

He just had to keep moving. 

Something would happen. 

Soon. 

He just had to keep moving.

He walked until the moment he heard it. Just a single phrase, softer than a whisper. It flew towards him, brushing up against his ear like a soft breeze. He recognized the words, but didn't recall any affiliation with them. 

_"Please, Tommy."_

For the first time ever, he stopped. His head whipping around in every direction, he frantically searched for the source of the sweet voice. The longing in his heart to hear those words again drove him in the same direction, even faster than before. After coming so far, he wasn't going to lose them. He couldn't be alone here again. Wouldn't.

The speed at which he ran nearly made him trip and fall, but he didn't slow. Instead, he pursued the voice with such resilience that he was scared he'd passed it. But then another word came, much louder this time, and with greater clarity. 

_"Please."_

He pushed his body to its limits as he sprinted for the voice in front of him, straining every muscle in his arms and legs as he willed himself to move even faster. 

That's when he saw it. 

He _saw_ it. 

Just ahead, the blackness faded away into a small white light, which grew in size by the second. Filled with a new desperation, he ran straight towards it, holding nothing back. Suddenly, the void around him became brighter and brighter. 

As he approached, the blackness faded away and his body felt fifty pounds lighter. It almost felt like he was flying. 

Soon, he slowed. The light sat in front of him, so strong now that he had to cover his eyes with his hands. Peeking through his open fingers, he took a small step forward. He inched towards the white, feeling even lighter as he did so. 

Then, he felt something crawling across his skin. It wrapped around his body in a tight grasp, causing him to shudder at the sudden sensation.

It was warmth. 

With a more confident stride, he walked forward again, this time completely into the light. The brightness engulfed him on all sides, spinning over, under, and even through his body. 

The light became almost blinding for some time, before it eventually settled back down. But as it began to fade, it wasn't replaced by the darkness. There was no darkness here. 

He lay on a long bed, tucked underneath a few blankets. 

The room was fairly small, almost as white as the light he'd just walked through. The window along one wall was opened all the way, the wind rustling the curtains as it passed by. It smelled clean. There was a beeping sound nearby, and he had to turn to see that it came from a small monitor next to the bed, which displayed a heartbeat. Something sat beside it was well, containing some kind of clear fluid that dripped down a tube.

His eyes followed the cords and tubes that fell from the machines to see that they were all injected into his arms. Tape laid across them on his skin, and he winced when he tried to pick at them. 

_Thomas._

He jumped at the sudden memory in his head. He didn't know where it came from, but he knew what it must've meant. Thomas was his name. He was Thomas. 

Thomas didn't need to study the room any longer to realize that he was in a hospital room, but he had no recollection of how he got there. 

The boy was so deep in thought, that he didn't even notice he wasn't the only person in the room until he felt the bed shift. To his right, a blonde boy sat in a chair facing the bed. Both of his hands were gently resting on top of Thomas', his head leaning against the bedside. 

At first, Thomas thought he was asleep. His breathes were slow and even, and his body was completely relaxed. But then he shifted again, not long after Thomas began staring at him. 

The blonde lifted his head slowly, keeping his eyes on Thomas' hand. He gave it a squeeze with both of his own before pulling away and leaning back into his seat. Thomas wasn't sure why, but he held his breathe as the boy sitting in front of him turned his head to face his. 

He just didn't know what to do, or what to think. 

Time slowed before their eyes locked, and Thomas studied the blonde carefully. His skin was fairer than Thomas', and his eyes were dark. His cheeks, along with the areas around his eyes, were slightly pink. It looked like he'd just been crying. But there was something about him. It gave Thomas a feeling that reminded him of what it felt like in the darkness. Chasing after something, but not knowing what it was.

When their eyes finally met, a heavy silence filled the room as the blonde's face twisted with shock and disbelief. His mouth fell open, and his eyes, which were already drained of tears, still managed to produce more. 

It was a long time before either of them spoke. 

"...Tommy?" The blonde eventually whispered. 

Thomas recognized that voice. It was the same one that called him out of the darkness. The one he'd so desperately followed to freedom. 

Thomas stared back at him with a blank face, but the blonde didn't seem to notice. Instead, a smile grew on his face as he brought his hands forward towards Thomas. 

"Oh my god," he gasped, placing his hands on either sides of Thomas' face. "Tommy!" 

Before Thomas could react, the blonde's lips were pressed tightly against his own. Thomas felt his body tense at the unexpected action, his arms already rising to push the boy away. 

He didn't know him.

He didn't _know_. 

The blonde felt Thomas' hands on hist chest, pushing him away. He pulled back in concern, trying to hide the look of hurt that must've flashed across his face. 

"What's wrong, love?" The blonde asked as he brought one hand down to rest on Thomas' shoulder. He shied away from the boy's touch. 

Thomas didn't even notice that his breathing had picked up significantly. His hands trembled as well, making it more difficult to control it. At least a minute must have passed before Thomas finally calmed down enough to speak. 

So much was going through his mind at once. 

He was in the darkness. He didn't remember anything before the darkness. There was a boy here, but Thomas didn't know him. He was in a hospital, but he didn't know why he was there or how he'd gotten there. Nothing was making sense and it was just too much to bare. 

"Please tell me what's wrong, Tommy," The blonde muttered, an increasing look of worry on his face. "Does it hurt?" 

Thomas frowned, staring into his dark eyes, and spoke in a raspy voice. 

"Who are you?"


	2. Down a Shrouded Road

**Two weeks earlier**

"I'm pretty sure we missed the turn."

"What?" Newt responded, his hands gripped tightly on the wheel of the car. "No we didn't. It's up here."

Thomas sighed, raising the map in his hands even higher in front of his face. He stared at it closely, scanning the paper for the road they'd use to enter the campsite just a week before.

Then he glanced outside, watching the hundreds of surrounding trees fly by. But these trees were taller than the ones they'd seen when they first arrived at the camp. They'd never been to this spot before. "No, we definitely missed it."

Thomas had to hide his smile as Newt tried to mask his pout with a frown.

"It's alright, Newt. We can just turn around up here," Thomas said, offering Newt a softer smile.

"Sorry," Newt muttered sheepishly as his eyes began to scan the road ahead for an area they could turn around in.

Thomas laughed and leaned over to give Newt a quick kiss on the cheek. "S'okay. You're forgiven, you shank."

Newt flashed a thankful smile back at him before turning back towards the road. "Help me find a place we can turn around at."

With a nod, Thomas held the map up once again. He looked ahead of where he thought they were at, searching for an open area. "Oh hey..." He started.

"What?" Newt asked, leaning his head towards Thomas but keeping his eyes forward.

"I...I think there's another road up here," Thomas muttered, his finger tracing a thin line across the map that now rested on his legs. "I think it lets out on the same road we came in on."

"You sure? I don't remember that." Newt argued in a questioning voice.

"Uh...yeah. I think so. It's right up here," Thomas answered as he looked up from his map and towards the road ahead.

They drove on for a few minutes before Thomas shot a hand out in front of him. Newt eyed his pointed finger and followed it to a small opening in the trees to the right of the trail. Newt slowed the car to a stop, leaning forward to get a better look. He looked back at Thomas with a surprised face. "This is it, then?"

Thomas gazed out towards the seemingly unused trail. It was barely wide enough to fit the car, and branches hung down low from every tree.

The foliage was much thicker surrounding it, allowing less light from the setting sun to squeeze through. But the most unsettling part was the fact that the road there was nothing but dirt, unlike the gravel road they currently sat on.

"Yup." Thomas answered bluntly.

Newt looked back at him with shock. "Wait, we're actually going in there?"

Thomas rolled his eyes. "Oh come on, Newt. This'll be way faster than turning around and driving all the way back."

Newt stared back at him for a long time, seeing the determination in Thomas' eyes. Both of them knew who was going win this battle.

With a heavy sigh, Newt put the car back into drive and spun the wheel towards the trail. "Feels like we're in a bloody horror movie."

Thomas laughed and gave him a pat on the shoulder before he reached over and wrapped one of Newt's hands in his. "That's the spirit!"

With a disapproving shake of his head, Newt drove the car onward. But he didn't pull his hand back.

They cruised down the road for a while, both of them staring out the window at the surrounding woods. It'd definitely grown much thicker as they continued on, but Thomas didn't seem to mind. The same couldn't be said for Newt.

"I don't like this," Newt said, his grip on Thomas' hand growing tighter.

Thomas looked back at him, even though Newt's face was becoming more difficult to make out in the darkness. "We're almost there, I think."

Silence once again creeped into the vehicle. As it did, Thomas looked down at their intertwined hands. He turned them slightly, so that Newt's wrist was facing up.

Thomas let go for a moment so he could trace a light finger over Newt's wrist. Underneath his touch, he felt the familiar texture of the Timer etched in his skin.

Even though he already knew what it said, Thomas ran his finger across it and made out every number.

Zero years. Zero months. Zero days. Zero minutes. Zero seconds.

Thomas' wrist said the same, and it'd had been like that for almost a year. Ever since the day he first met Newt.

Thomas smiled at the memory of first meeting his Soulmate, tracing his hand over Newt's one last time before pulling away.

Newt glanced over at Thomas, a small smile growing on his face as well. "What're you thinking about in that shuck head of yours?"

"You." Thomas answered softer than a whisper.

Newt laughed. "What _about_ me?"

"Everything, I guess," Thomas answered truthfully.

Newt really was everything to Thomas. He was always there for him, no matter how bad it got. They understood each other like nobody else, and their connection was so strong that it almost hurt to be apart.

Thomas depended so much on Newt, and he couldn't imagine a life without him. Newt _was_ his life now.

"Well I was thinking about you, too." Newt said in a matter-of-fact voice.

"Oh yeah?" Thomas said, raising his eyebrows expectantly at Newt.

"You know that one morning, I think it was two days ago, when you said you were gonna get up early and go fishing?" Newt asked, glancing at Thomas for a quick moment.

"Mhmm," Thomas hummed.

"Well when I got up I came to watch you," Newt said, keeping his face forwards now.

The way Newt spoke made it sound like he was up to something, which made Thomas nervous. His stomach dropped as the images of what happened during that trip flashed in his mind. "...And?"

"And I-" Newt had to stop because he started laughing, but he quickly picked up again to finish his story. "-I _may_ or may not have seen you get pulled into the lake that fish..."

As those last words left Newt's mouth, he broke into a fit of laughs, while Thomas sat in his seat mortified. He thought he was alone when that happened.

"You saw that?!" Thomas eventually forced out. He was suddenly very thankful for the darkness, which concealed the growing blush on his cheeks.

"Sorry, love. I wasn't going to say anything," Newt said as he reached up and wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. "But then I started thinking about it again and I almost lost it!"

Thomas sighed, burying his head in his hands. While he was fishing, something _big_ had taken his bait. And since Thomas hadn't caught any fish yet that morning, Thomas' grip on the pole wasn't the best. The sudden pull of the rod in his hands sent Thomas flying forward from where he sat.

Unable to stop his momentum, Thomas flew into the water in front of him, sending splashes of water in all directions. As he climbed out, his entire body got covered with algae and mud. It took an hour to clean it off.

"I can't believe you saw that," Thomas mumbled into his hands. Then an idea began to form in his head as he tied the loose ends from that day together. "Wait...is that why you laid out towels and clean clothes for me before I got back?"

Newt nodded. "I didn't want to make you feel too bad, so I left and laid out your clothes before you saw me."

Thomas rolled his eyes at the statement, but feeling thankful at the same time at Newt's thoughtfulness. "Well, thanks...I guess."

Newt laughed, "Chin up, Tommy. I actually thought it was kinda cute."

Thomas looked at him, trying to keep a serious face. But as soon as he met Newt's eyes, his facade failed. Thomas laughed along with him, shaking his head in defeat.

"What would I do without you?" Thomas asked playfully.

"You'd be wet, covered in algae. A little muddy as well." Newt snickered.

"Well at least I wouldn't be lost in the woods," Thomas muttered, a sly smile on his face.

Newt shrugged with a smirk. "You got me there."

A comfortable silence fell upon the car as the pair's laughs died down. They both sighed contently as Thomas leaned over and laid his head gently on Newt's shoulder. A few more seconds passed before Thomas spoke again. His voice was deeper now, and softer. "Hey Newt?"

"Yeah, Tommy?"

"Love you."

Newt looked down and gave Thomas a sweet smile in return. "I love yo-"

The crash happened so fast that neither of them knew what was happening until a large spiderweb of cracks filled the windshield.

"SHIT!" Newt yelled, unable to control the car. He yanked on the wheel, trying to bring the vehicle to a stop. But without any visibility, there was nothing he could do.

The sounds of tires screeching on the dirt could be heard inside the car. Thomas sat up and reached out to grip the dashboard with both hands as he yelled, "NEWT, I-"

His words were cut off before the next crash.

This time, the windows burst completely as the car slammed directly into a large tree on the side of the road. Shards of glass flew through the air, slicing everything in their path.

Thomas' side took most of the impact, the force of the hit sent directly towards his head. Thomas fell limp.

Newt didn't notice, too consumed by the pain that began to crawl through his body. He screamed so fiercely his throat ached as he clutched the side of his head with both his hands, where it hurt the worst.

Waves of pain pulsed through Newt's body, blurring his vision. But while Newt grasped his head tightly, his heart dropped as a realization dawned on him.

He felt no injury with his hand. No blood.

The pain wasn't his.

It was Thomas'.

Newt looked over towards his Soulmate, wincing at the pain that shot up his neck. "T-tommy?"

No answer.

"Tommy? Can you hear me?!" Newt cried he reached over and shook Thomas' body, his heart dropping at the discovery that he wasn't awake.

Newt shrieked as another wave of pain coursed through him. He tried to slow his heavy breathing, but it was hard to do as panic began to consume him. _Tommy is alive,_ he tried to tell himself, _If he still hurts then he's alive._

With a groan, Newt reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

No signal.

"No..."

_No bloody signal._

"No," He gasped, "No, no, no...please!"

Keeping the phone in his hand, Newt reached over and grabbed his sweatshirt from the backseat.

He tried to settle his shaking hands as he held it up and wrapped the fabric around Thomas' injured head. Before getting out of the car, Newt checked for a pulse.

It was there. Weak, but it was there.

"H-hold on, Tommy," Newt forced out as his crying became to violent to speak. "I'll be r-right b-back."

Quickly, Newt stepped out of the car, only to fall on the ground as a new pain grew in his bad leg. A gash stretched across his skin, right above where the scar was from his previous accident.

Gasping in pain, Newt forced himself to stand, keeping on hand pressed against his leg.

He paused before taking his first step, hissing as he did so. It hurt, but it was bearable. With more confidence, Newt took another step forward. Then another.

Slowly, Newt practically dragged his injured self away from the beat up car. It was totaled, but luckily not smoking. Thomas was safe.

With his free hand, Newt lifted his phone in the air, his breathes growing heavier and more strained by the second.

Still no signal.

"Dammit," Newt muttered as he stopped. Looking back at the car for a final time, Newt couldn't hold back the new tears forming in his eyes. The only thing that told him Thomas was still alive was the throbbing pain on the side of his head.

"Hold on, Tommy. You're gonna be f-fine. I promise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I'm back!
> 
> So I posted this on my other fic, but I'm gonna do it here too. Since I'm so freakin' busy with schoolwork now, I don't have time to write anymore. But luckily, I had some time before I moved in to stock up on some chapters. So what my current plan is to update two fics at once, this one and Everything Old is New Again, and the updates will be once a week, and I'll alternate fics each time. 
> 
> In other words, each fic will have bi-weekly updates for a while. And then...I may or may not run out of chapters some time in November. But then I'll have more time to stock up on chapters again in December!! Man, I really wish I had more time to write, cause I hate making you guys wait!!! But I also really appreciate all of your patience and understanding. Slowly but surely, I will see these through. 
> 
> And as always, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy<3


	3. Not Dead

**Two weeks earlier**

By the time Newt got through to the paramedics, he couldn't even walk. He'd sunken lower and lower, more energy draining from his body by the second. It wasn't long before he ended up dragging himself across the ground, favoring his injured leg. The pain had gotten much worse, causing Newt groan with every movement. But he had to keep moving.

Soon had no strength left.

By now, Newt wanted nothing more than to sprint back to the car, wrap Thomas in his arms, and to make sure he was still okay. But he couldn't even if he tried to, the waves of pain flowing from his leg becoming too much to bear.

It didn't take long for Newt to realize that he'd drifted into unconsciousness after the last bits of energy left his body. When he came to, the world was a grey blur. There were bright lights and sounds, but they all seemed for distant, like they were behind a glass wall. As he tried to focus, Newt's senses slowly sharpened enough for him to see multiple figures hovering above him. They were shining flashlights in his face, towards his eyes, as well as down towards his leg.

Newt was lying on what he assumed be a gurney, guessing from the soft and padded sheet beneath him. Looking up, he could see he was being rushed to an ambulance, where two doors sat wide open waiting for him.

That's when he remembered what happened.

Newt gasped at the memory, trying to sit up, but a sudden pair of hands on his chest wouldn't allow him.

"Tommy? Where's Tommy? Is he okay?!" Newt spoke frantically, still struggling against the paramedic's grip, his eyes darting in all directions in search of his Soulmate.

"Newt, I need you stop struggli-" A voice said, but it still felt muted. So far away.

"TOMMY!" Newt shouted, barely able to hear his own voice, and ignoring the person's request. "TOM-"

Newt's voice cut off into a piercing scream. His hands shot up to his head, where the pain even worse than before. His body fell limp as he whimpered between clenched teeth, his body's energy spent. He'd been through so much pain. Too much. And Thomas...

The person leaning over Newt sighed as they reached up and pulled Newt's hands down from his head. At the same time, another paramedic stuck Newt's arm with a needle. The first paramedic spoke up, "He's already on the way to the hospital. You're going too."

Newt opened his mouth to respond but the sensation of himself being lifted upwards and onto the ambulance knocked the air out of him. He had to pause to catch his breathe as his vision momentarily faded to black.

As the paramedics carried the injured boy through the open doors, Newt could feel himself begin to slip away again. The bright lights above him blurred, and the frantic voices surrounding him seemed to grow farther and farther away.

Then, he saw nothing. Heard nothing. Felt nothing, except the pain that lingered on the side of his head even in sleep.

Newt didn't remember much after that. He recalled a few glimpses of a large room with more lights, and doctors. He was in a bed for a while. People brought him food regularly but wouldn't answer any of his questions.

The only thing he knew was that Thomas was alive. He could still feel his pain, although it was subdued now.

After a few days, Newt was allowed to stand up, walk around. He had to use one crutch under his arm to keep balance at first, but he quickly got the hang of it. And once he was able to navigate the building, Newt started to roam the halls searching for Thomas. But every time, a doctor or nurse found him and took him back to his room.

As everyone heard the news of the accident, Newt received many concerned calls from his and Thomas' friends. But the hardest calls were always the ones from Minho. The three of them were by far the closest, and Newt so desperately wanted to see him in person. He needed someone there. Newt didn't know where Thomas was, or how he was doing...nothing. And knowing nothing was killing him.

The worst part was that Newt and Thomas were out of town during the accident, meaning Minho was a at least a good eight hours away by car. But the time didn't seem to discourage Minho, considering the countless times he offered to drive down and meet them. And as much as he wanted to see Minho, Newt turned him down every time.

 _We'll be going home soon, anyway,_ He'd always say, although he didn't know if it was more for Minho or himself. Minho hesitantly agreed, but made Newt swear that if anything changed with him or Thomas, he'd be one of the first to know.

It wasn't until an entire week after the accident that Newt was allowed to see Thomas. The day it happened, the doctor came in. She was pale, and had long blonde hair pulled back in a tight bun. Newt knew her as Dr. Paige.

"Hello, Newt," She said in a calm yet monotone voice, "How are you feeling?"

Newt shrugged. "Fine, I guess. I just wa-"

"I know," She cut Newt off, knowing what he was going to say. "I'm going to take you to see Thomas now, if that's alright."

Newt's head shot up at those words. Excitement coursed through his body as he pictured being able to be with Thomas again. But the look on the doctor's face was sullen, and it quickly drained what little spirit he had.

"I should tell you, Newt, before I take you in," Dr. Paige said softly, "Thomas is recovering well, but..."

Newt's stomach dropped by the way her face paled. "What is it?"

"He hasn't woken up since the accident." She answered, sympathy laced in her voice.

Newt froze. This entire time, all those days spent recovering, Newt thought that _both_ of them were getting better. Hearing the doctor's words sent a terrible shiver through his body. He didn't want to believe it. "So what are you saying? He's...he's in a coma?"

Dr. Paige took a deep breathe, and nodded her head solemnly. "...For the moment, yes."

Tears threatened to fall from Newt's eyes as he tried to hold himself together. But he couldn't hide the shakiness in his voice and and the visible trembles of his clenched hands. "...When's he gonna wake up?"

"We don't know. There's no way to tell," Dr. Paige answered sadly, before speaking again. "I'm sorry Newt. We've done everything we can. It's up to Thomas now."

Newt nodded, and sniffed. He brought his trembling hands up to wipe his eyes, just now realizing that he'd been holding his breathe that whole time.

The boy sucked in one more shaky breathe, and let it out. "I want to see him."

Dr. Paige gave the boy a subtle nod as she stood, grabbing Newt's crutch and handing it to him slowly. Newt grasped it, carefully leaning over the edge of the bed before putting weight on his good leg. Once he'd gained his balance, Newt gestured towards the door with his free hand. Dr. Paige turned and walked out, making sure not to walk too fast for Newt. 

The two passed corridor after corridor, and what made it disorienting was the fact that they all looked exactly the same. Dimmed fluorescent lights lined the ceilings, and the walls were painted with the same pastel blues and yellows. The floor was a cream-colored tile, and it looked exceptionally clean. Even the smell was the same throughout. A little musty, along with the heavy stench of bleach. The pair made so many lefts and rights, that Newt felt like he was walking through a maze. 

His anticipation started to become too much to withstand, and Newt was about to speak up when Dr. Paige stopped in front of a single wooden door. She turned and met Newt's eyes, giving him one final look of question. 

When she was met with Newt's steady gaze, Dr. Paige reached down and turned the doorknob. She took extra care to open it quietly, even though she knew that it wouldn't wake Thomas up. 

Wasting no time, Newt limped inside, gripping his crutch tightly with both hands. It was quite literally the only thing holding him upright, considering his arms were now shaking uncontrollably. The emotional and physical toll his body had taken in the last week was beginning to show. 

But he only walked half the distance to the bed before he stopped in his tracks.

The boy in the bed wasn't Thomas. 

It couldn't be Thomas. 

But it was.

The boy in the bed had the same tanned skin, the same messy dark hair. White bandages sat just above his eyebrows, wrapped around so they were covering the entire right side of his head. 

The visible areas under his right eye were covered in patches of blue and black, and there was still some swelling in his cheek. Scratches, from what Newt assumed to be the broken windshield, streaked across his face and arms. As Newt's eyes trailed down Thomas' body, he could see even more white bandages wrapped in thick layers around his wrists and shoulders. 

He was so broken.

So, so broken. 

Newt didn't even realize he was crying until he felt the warm wetness of his tears rolling down his face. It took everything he had to tell himself that Thomas was okay. The doctor said he was getting better, and that he was...just in a coma. Not dead. Not dead. Not dead. 

Grabbing a chair with his free hand, Newt hobbled over and placed it right next to Thomas' bed. He took a seat, slightly wincing at the pain that shot up his leg as he did so. 

Thomas looked even worse up close. 

Newt sucked in a deep breathe. He didn't know how much longer he could stand this. Seeing Thomas in such a horrible state felt worse than taking a knife to the heart. He wanted to make it all go away. To heal Thomas back to health, wake him up, and take him home. But seeing Thomas like this...

"Tommy..." Newt whispered, his voice cracking. He leaned forward, reaching out to take Thomas' nearby hand gently in his. And despite the blurry vision he had from his tears, something caught Newt's eye. 

Thomas' timer. 

Newt ran his thumb over Thomas' wrist, just as Thomas had done to him just a week earlier. Before this happened. Newt could feel every zero, clearly printed on Thomas' skin. 

Unable to control himself any longer, Newt sobbed. He held his love's hand even tighter, his head falling low until it made contact with the edge of the mattress.

Nothing but the sounds of trembling inhales and exhales of breathe filled the room. And the longer Newt remained there, more and more guilt began to pool in his heart. It was getting deeper by the second, and Newt felt like he was drowning. Thomas didn't deserve this.

"I'm so sorry," He whispered frantically, shaking his head from side to side. "I'm so so sorry, Tommy."

Newt's vision was clouded by the sight of Thomas sitting in the car after the crash, unconscious with blood running down his face. He was so pale, so still. If it hadn't been for the excruciating pain that Newt felt that night, he would've thought Thomas was dead. _But he was still alive_ , Newt thought to himself. Not dead. Not dead. Not dead. 

That's when Newt felt it.

Something deep down, something...raw...crawling its way to the surface. The feeling grew stronger and more powerful as time passed on. And it hurt. It really, really hurt. The pain morphed to anger, then to remorse. And sometimes it became so distorted Newt didn't know what to think of it.

But as this feeling became more vivid, a single phrase etched itself into Newt's mind. It was so rooted, so deep, that he knew he'd never be able to believe anything else he told himself.

_This was all your fault._

Newt was the one who missed the exit. The one who drove onto the shaded dirt trail. The one who looked away from the path as he drove. The one who crashed. The one who...

Newt pulled back, still crying into a hand that was wrapped over his mouth. He sucked in breathes so quickly that he sounded like he was hyperventilating.

...the one who almost killed Thomas.

His Soulmate.

Newt shook his head, trying to force the thought away, but it didn't leave. It took ten minutes of deep breathes to finally calm down enough to speak again.

"I h-hurt you. I did this to you," Newt cried, pulling his shaking arms into himself. "But I would n-never...hurt...y-you-"

He had to pause to catch his breathe again, and to wipe away some of the tears that steadily flowed from the corners of his eyes. He had to squeeze his hands into fists to stop them from shaking, digging his nails into his skin so fiercely he drew blood. 

"I love y-you," Newt whispered, eyes already growing blurry again. He reached his hand out towards Thomas, but then pulled in back. "Without you, I-"

Another sniff. Newt sighed, knowing that Thomas couldn't even hear him. But he didn't let that stop him. Slowly, and with the most caution, Newt leaned over and placed the gentlest of kisses on Thomas' forehead. He lingered there for a moment, breathing slow, eyes shut, before leaning back and standing to leave.

Then Newt couldn't look anymore. The guilt was just too much.

As he stood with his crutch, Newt muttered a few final words to Thomas.

"I'm s-so sorry, love...please forgive me."

And then he was gone.

But he came back. Once a day, and sometimes even more. Nothing changed, but Newt talked to him more. It was the closest thing they could do to having everything back to normal. _Soon it'll all be back to normal_ , Newt always told Thomas, but something felt off in his voice every time he spoke it. He didn't know what it was.

And then, after six more days, Thomas woke up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still feel bad about updating every other week, so I really appreciate your patience. My schoolwork has really picked up and I barely have time to edit the chapters I already have written...can't wait for a break so I have more time to write<3


	4. You Knew

**Present Day**

Newt ran. 

He stumbled out of the room, not caring in the slightest about the pain that shot up his leg every time it hit the ground. He needed to find Dr. Paige. She could fix this. She could make it all go away. She had to...

"Please, please, please," Newt muttered to himself as he dragged himself down the hallway, rounding corner after corner. The stretch of floor after every turn felt longer than the next, driving Newt's anxiety to its edge. He needed to find her. Now.

Thomas' words flooded his mind, and they wouldn't leave.

_"Who are you?"_

Newt shook his head frantically, trying to escape them. They weren't real. They couldn't have been real.

Despite the similar walls and floors, Newt had grown quite accustom to navigating the building on his own. He actually became so focused on making his way to the doctor's office, Newt almost missed the familiar figure that stopped short in front of him. 

"Newt?" Dr. Paige asked in a worried tone. 

Newt's head shot up as he recognized the voice, and he stopped in his tracks. He froze, trying to find the words to say, only to have them slip farther from his grasp. When he didn't speak, Dr. Paige cautiously continued. 

"Where's your crutch? You shouldn't be putting that much weight on your leg for another week," She said, eyeing the boy up and down. After no response, her expression softened a bit before she spoke in a calmer voice. "Newt?" 

When he first set out to find Dr. Paige, Newt wanted to scream. He wanted to punch and kick every wall he passed, and to shove away every person that blocked his path. Newt wanted to grab Dr. Paige, drag her back to the room, command her to fix Thomas. 

But now that he was here, all of the anger just...disappeared. His adrenaline faded away as he opened his mouth, leaving him too flustered to speak. And when he finally did, there was no anger, or aggression. Only pain. "He's..." 

"He's awake?" Dr. Paige asked, no surprise in her voice. It was almost as if she was expecting it. 

Newt gave as much of a nod as he could, his entire body tensing up at what he was about to say. A phrase that ripped his heart apart with every word. "He...doesn't remember me." 

He could feel the tears begin to pool in his eyes as the look of defeat crossed Dr. Paige's face. With every second that passed, it became more and more difficult for her to look Newt in the eye. With a sad sigh, she finally muttered, "I was afraid of this."

Newt felt his eyes grow wide as he listened to the doctor's words. His knees buckled slightly beneath him, forcing him to grab onto the wall to regain his balance. Newt's fist clenched down at his side as he stared on. "You _knew_ this could happen?" 

The doctor sighed again, sadness flooding her eyes. "Unfortunately, I did. Memory loss is fairly common side affect of head injuries as serious as Thomas'." 

"Why didn't you tell me?" Newt pried, pushing off the wall and taking a threatening step towards Dr. Paige. 

She held her ground. "It's impossible to tell the extent of the damage until the patient is awake. With the way Thomas' injury was healing, we thought it'd be a smooth recovery. We saw no need to inform you of the risks unless we knew for sure the extent of the damages that Thomas withstood." 

Newt was quiet. 

The woman in front of him stared back with a genuine heartbreak in her eyes. It looked like she wanted to say something else, to take the crying boy in front of her into her arms and comfort him. But she said something else, instead. "We'll closely monitor his injury and behavior for any changes. In most cases, patients with concussions such as this regain their memories within a few weeks." 

" _Most_ cases?" Newt asked, his heart dropping at the idea of what happened to the other small percent. His heart dropped at the idea of Thomas never regaining his old memories. It'd be like losing a piece of themselves. 

Dr. Paige's head hung low as she muttered a few final words. "I'm sorry, Newt. There's nothing more we can do but wait." She turned and only walked a few paces before looking back over her shoulder. "And hope."

And then she turned and walked briskly away towards Thomas' room, leaving a sobbing Newt alone in the long hallway. 

The sound of his cries seemed to echo through the building, only adding to the feeling that was growing inside of him. A feeling that he didn't want to admit to feeling, and one that he hadn't felt since almost a year ago. 

Newt was alone. 

He felt like a stranger in this place, with nobody here to turn to. Nobody...

_Minho_. The single name suddenly flooded Newt's mind. Before he knew it, he was practically sprinting back to the room, tears now streaming down his face from the pain in his worn out leg. 

He needed to talk to Minho. 

Newt burst into his room and grabbed his cell phone, dialing one of the few numbers he knew by heart. With every ring, Newt's heart took a hit. He didn't even consider the fact that Minho might be unable to come down. But Newt didn't know if he could be alo-

_"Newt? That you?"_ A voice suddenly spoke through the phone. 

Newt let out the breathe he was holding, his hand shaking as he held the device up to his left ear. It took all the strength he had left to keep his voice from breaking, but he could only squeeze out one word before his throat clenched. "Min..."

Just the sound of that single word was enough for Minho to know something was really wrong. _"Newt, is everything okay? Did something happen?"_ Minho asked frantically, not trying to cover the concern in his voice. 

Newt sniffed and rubbed his nose with a free had as he sucked in a shaky breathe. "It's...Tommy..." 

_"Is something wrong? Is he alright?"_ Minho practically begged, growing even more anxious at the morbid tone of Newt's voice. He'd never sounded like this before.

"He's..." Newt paused at the ache in his heart. "He's awake." 

Newt could hear the sigh of relief over the phone, and it only made him feel worse. Minho didn't know. _He didn't know_. 

_"Shuck, Newt. Don't scare me like that,"_ Minho said. Newt could tell that he had a smile on his face. " _I thought something was wrong_." 

Minho laughed, but stopped abruptly when Newt didn't join in. Instead, there was silence. And despite being almost eight hours away, Minho could feel the heavy and somber mood that emitted from the phone. His stomach dropped. _"Newt?"_

Newt almost cracked at the sadness in Minho's voice, at his realization that something really _was_ wrong. Tears burned hot in his eyes, blurring his vision and clouding his thoughts. Both of his arms were trembling now, and he was clenching his teeth so hard that he couldn't answer. He felt it coming before it happened. 

With a cry, Newt broke down. He let the tears fall, shrinking even more into himself as he hugged the phone to his ear with one hand. With the other, he covered his mouth, in attempt to stifle his cries. Newt was sure that Minho could hear his loud gasping, and pulled the phone away for a moment to collect his breathe. And when he finally managed to calm down, he slowly brought his hand back up. 

Then Newt said the words, each of them piercing and tearing his heart apart just as much as they had when he told Dr. Paige. He'd never felt such pain. Yes, he could feel Thomas' concussion after the accident, but this was something else. Something deep. It tore at his insides until there was nothing left but a broken person. It was hard to breathe.

"Minho...h-he doesn't...know w-who I am..." Newt trailed off, unable to control the next wave of sobs that left his mouth. Then he spoke again, clearer this time and full of pain. "He doesn't remember m-me." 

Silence followed. Then, static.

With every second that passed, another wave of agony pulsed through Newt's body. He couldn't push back the guilt that began to climb back up inside of him. _Please say something,_ he desperately wanted to say, _Please just say anything_. 

Then, after what felt like the longest bit of silence Newt had ever experienced, Minho finally spoke. _"What do you mean, he..."_

He didn't even try to finish his sentence. Minho knew what it meant, he just didn't want to believe it was true. But Newt clarified anyway, still trying to convince himself of the same thing. His voice was a little calmer now, despite the heavy flow of tears that continued to run down his cheeks. "His concussion, he...he lost his memory, Min."

Another pause, accompanied by what Newt thought was the sounds of a few quiet cries. 

_"...What's gonna happen to him?"_ Minho asked, sniffing a few times. _"Will he..."_

Newt knew what he was going to ask. He reached up to wipe away more tears as he spoke, "The doctor said...most other people with injuries like this get their memories back in a couple of weeks, bu-"

_"I'm coming down there,"_ Minho declared suddenly, cutting off Newt completely.

"What?" Newt asked, pulling away from the phone to look at in in surprise. 

_"I'm leaving,"_ Minho said, his breathes growing deeper. It sounded like he was already rushing around his house, gathering the things he needed for the trip down. _"Right now."_

"Min..." Newt started in a quiet voice, but Minho cut him off. 

_"Newt, no. I'm not letting you say no this time. I'm coming down there and that's final,"_ Minho declared with authority. Newt could tell by his voice that Minho had no intention of changing his mind. But what Minho didn't know was that Newt had no such plan of doing so. 

Newt wanted Minho to come down. 

Before Thomas woke up, Newt always turned down Minho's offers to visit, not wanting to drag him into this mess. Newt had Thomas with him, then. But now, it felt like he wasn't there. Yes, he was in his room down the hall. But that Thomas wasn't the same Thomas that Newt knew. 

The Tommy he knew was missing. 

Of course, Newt knew that he'd have a good chance of getting him back, but he didn't know how to do it. How to face it. The only thing that Newt _did_ know for certain was that it was his job to keep everyone together. 

Thomas needed his friends now more than ever, and so did Newt. 

"Okay," Newt whispered weakly, his body drained of almost all its energy. "...Okay." 

Minho let out a relived breathe as the sounds of him stuffing clothes in bags traveled through the phone. _"If I leave soon I should get there by this afternoon. Call me if anything changes."_

"I will," Newt said, a final tear streaking down his face. "See you tonight."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know. I'm a terrible person and I disappeared for a while...BUT I've returned with gifts. Starting today, there will be weekly updates of this fic up through early May!! Woohoo!! And this time I wrote enough over my winter break that I already have enough chapters written to do so (I just have to edit them). So in other words, I won't mysteriously vanish like last semester. I'm HERE TO STAY (until May...then I might take a few weeks off to write more)
> 
> I wanted to thank you guys for being so patient and understanding, and I can't wait for you all to read what I've written so far :)
> 
> And as always thank you for reading, lovelies<3


	5. His Name is Newt

Newt held the phone to his ear long after Minho had hung up. He sat on the floor, leaning against the wall, his bad leg extended out in front of him. A glazed look crossed his eyes as his mind tried to process everything that had just happened. 

But every time he thought about it, fear and panic came crashing back down onto him so hard that it was almost suffocating. Newt's mind had already began to picture the worst case scenarios, in which Thomas never regains his memories. And no matter how hard Newt tried to push them away, they burst right back in with even more vivid images. 

"You s-should go see him," Newt muttered to himself aloud, unable to put together any clear thoughts in his mind. It was hard to hear his voice over his heavy breathes and the sound of his heart pounding in his chest. "He needs you." 

Sucking in a deep breathe, Newt reached to the floor and shoved himself up. A groaned escaped his lips as he clutched the wall and hopped to stand on his good leg. Although he stuck the landing, a sharp pain from his wound brought him back to the ground. 

Newt had pushed himself too much trying to find Dr. Paige without using his crutch. And now his leg hurt as much as it did a week ago. 

A week ago he was a mess, and Thomas was...

Newt yelled in frustration, chucking his phone across the floor as he brought both hands to cover his face. He drew in a few shaky breathes as he tried to calm himself down enough to try again. Images of the first time he saw Thomas after the accident began to flash through his mind. Every detail, every injury, every thought that Newt had while standing above the boy that looked nothing like the Thomas he knew. 

Minutes passed before the pain surging through his leg finally began to fade. But as Newt propped himself up to try again, something stopped him. Not his leg, but something he felt. 

It started out small, and quickly grew inside of him so quickly almost consumed him. Newt's stomach dropped as he recognized that raw, relentless feeling. He knew what it was. 

It was the guilt, and it had no intention of leaving. 

Newt was the one who did this to Thomas in the first place...wasn't he? How could he ever expect himself to face Thomas again? How would he be able to look Thomas in the eye once he learned what Newt had done to him? How could...how could Thomas forgive him? 

Newt froze, the sound of his heartbeat growing loud enough to drown out everything surrounding him. More and more thoughts of Thomas flooded his mind as his breathes began to pick up pace. 

"I did this," Newt forced out between gasps, tears once again forming in his dark eyes. He brought his good leg into his chest, wrapping both arms tightly around it. Newt then brought his forehead down, resting it on top of his knee. His entire body began to shake as Newt shook his head sharply from side to side. Losing himself to panic, Newt sat alone, surrounded by nothing but his own thoughts. 

They were getting so heavy he could barely breathe, let alone move. 

"I did this," Newt whispered again, his voice cracking as his cries became almost uncontrollable. He choked at the dryness in his throat, but he couldn't stop. And in that moment, time froze. 

It felt like Newt was in that moment forever, trapped in the cage that was his own mind. And there was no escape. 

"I did this." 

"I did this." 

_"I did this."_

###### 

Walking away from Newt made Dr. Paige's heart sink in her chest, and even though it hurt she knew that there was nothing else she could have done for him. All they could do was wait. 

Instead of turning back she continued to walk, heading directly for Thomas' room. Her steady and professional stature never broke until she reached the hall outside Thomas' doorway, which was just out of his sight. For a slight moment, her calm expression wavered to show a look of fear. Having lost her own Soulmate many years ago, she was terrified to face such a familiar memory again.

Taking a calming breathe, Dr. Paige composed herself before stepping in front of the doorway leading to Thomas' room. She stopped at the sight of the boy before continuing in.

Thomas' injuries had healed very well over the last week or so. The bandages that once covered almost half of his face were gone, but heavy bruising and scratches still remained scattered along his face and arms. The swelling had gone down immensely and his hair was beginning to grow back from where they had to shave it, but something was still off.

It was his eyes. There was look to them that made Dr. Paige very uneasy. She'd cared for multiple memory-loss patients in the past, but none of their expressions compared to Thomas'. He just looked so...unaware.

In the past, the other patients knew something had happened to them before she'd even arrived. But Thomas, other the other hand, looked as though he had not a single clue about anything. Dr. Paige wasn't even sure if Thomas knew who _he_ was.

"Hello, Thomas," Dr. Paige said calmly, trying her best to wear a reassuring smile on her face. With slight hesitation, she strolled over to the side of Thomas' bed, sitting in the same seat that Newt had been in just minutes ago. "My name is Dr. Paige. How are you feeling?"

Thomas stared at her for a long time. He looked her up and down again and again, as if trying to piece something together. Dr. Paige could see the frustration building in his eyes as he failed to do so. But Thomas continued for a few minutes longer before finally submitting and answering the stranger's question.

"Um..." Thomas started, his voice cracking from lack of use. He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking too deeply about the doctor asked. "My head hurts a little, and...uh..." The boy shook his head, unable to form the words that were racing through his mind.

When Thomas didn't finish his answer, Dr. Paige spoke up for him. "Are you having problems remembering things, Thomas?"

Thomas looked back up at her sharply, his eyes blinking rapidly in confusion. He frown as his eyes drifted down again, becoming lost to his thoughts. Does she mean memory loss? That couldn't be right, could it? But, as Thomas tried to remember anything of importance, nothing surfaced.

That's when he felt the terror and unease begin to rise inside of him.

Dr. Paige saw this, and quickly spoke before Thomas could lose himself to panic. Luckily, her past experience with memory-loss patients taught her what to say, as well as when and how to say it. "Thomas, I need you to focus on me. Do you know where you are?"

Thomas took a deep breathe a nodded before looking around the room. When his eyes met hers again, she could tell he was sure of his answer. "Hospital," Thomas whispered.

"That's right, Thomas," Dr. Paige gave him a soft smile. "Do you remember how you got here? What happened to you at all?"

Thomas frowned in concentration. He strained his mind with all the strength he had left, desperately prying for some kind of recollection. And when nothing came, he pushed even harder, panicking again. It wasn't until now that he began to realize what Dr. Paige said was true. Thomas couldn't remember anything. "No," He gasped, his breathes growing quicker by the second, "I c-can't remember anything, wh-"

"Thomas," Dr. Paige said, holding both of her hands open in front of her in a calming gesture. She spoke up even louder to be heard over Thomas' heaving breathes. "Thomas I need you to calm down. You were in an accident."

Thomas brought both of his hands to his head, shaking it from side to side. "No, no that can't be right...I-"

"You were in the passenger seat of a car when you crashed into multiple trees off on the side of the road. Your side took most of the damage, and you got a major concussion on your head," Dr. Paige said solemnly as she watched Thomas' breathing slow, his tearful eyes locked with hers now.

"I don't understand..." Thomas gasped, his eyes darting all around the room in search of any answer. "I don't understand."

Dr. Paige continued on instead of answering his question, knowing that it would just be better to tell him everything now, and then answer his questions at the end. "Ne-" She started to say Newt's name, but caught herself just in time. "...another person was driving the car, and you were both transported here just over a week ago. You've been in a coma since then."

Thomas stared back at her in pure horror. Dr. Paige could see all the different thoughts running through his mind. The accident, how it happened, where it happened, the hospital, the coma, the other person in the car...

Forcing himself to close his eyes, Thomas ran through everything the doctor had told him. "I was in an accident, I hurt my head, I lost my memories..." But he trailed off before he could finish. It was all his mind could take, he was overwhelmed.

"Yes," Dr. Paige patiently assured him, "That is correct."

"I came here, I was in a coma..." Thomas continued to whisper, pushing himself to continue. His desperation to understand _something_ was growing even more severe. A strange and unfamiliar feeling flooded Thomas' mind from his inability to recall any memory to prove these traumatic events occurred. That made them seem even less real. "There was another person in the car..."

Dr. Paige could see Thomas' thoughts stop suddenly as he singled in on that specific detail.

"Another person..." Thomas repeated, "...who was the other person in the car?"

Dr. Paige looked down for a moment before meeting Thomas' confused eyes. "You were with your Soulmate, Thomas."

Thomas' eyes grew wide at the statement, his body flooding with panic once again. His Soulmate? How could he not remember he had a Soulmate? Slowly, Thomas spun his arm around, revealing the Timer etched onto his tanned skin. Thomas gasped at what he saw, tears beginning to spill from the corners of his eyes. He brought his free hand up to wipe the tears away, just to make sure he was reading it correctly.

Zero years. Zero months. Zero days. Zero minutes. Zero seconds.

Thomas had a Soulmate...and he couldn't even remember them. "Oh my god," Thomas repeated again and again, his eyes never leaving the Timer on his wrist. "This isn't happening."

Dr. Paige sat silently, letting the news sink in. She knew he would need time to adjust, so she sat for as long as she could before she had to leave to treat another patient. "I'll give you some time to let this sink in, Thomas," She said quietly before standing to leave.

"Wait," Thomas said, grabbing her sleeve before she could slip away. "How do I get them back? My memories?"

Dr. Paige gave him a sad look. "I'm afraid there's nothing else you can do, Thomas. You will just have to wait for them to come back on their own." Her voice cracked at the end, but she held herself together. She didn't have the heart to tell him that they may never come back. "So for now," Dr. Paige continued in an even gentler voice, "I would suggest that you surround yourself with your family and friends when you are up to it. They're going to need you as much as you need them to get through this."

Thomas stared at her, longing to blurt out every question on his mind, but he knew that he'd already heard enough for now. He didn't know how much more stress he could take in one go. Letting out a shaky breathe, Thomas nodded a few times before loosening his grip on Dr. Paige's sleeve.

"I'm...so sorry, Thomas," Dr. Paige quietly apologized as she made her way to the door. "If you need a me or a nurse, hit that button beside your bed, alright? No need for you walking around with that head injury. You need to get some more rest."

Thomas waited until she was just about to cross the doorway when he asked one final question. "Doctor?"

"Yes, Thomas?"

Thomas still had to whisper, but tried to speak as loudly as he could despite the pain in his throat. "What's their name?"

"Your Soulmate?" Dr. Paige asked before receiving a quick but nervous nod from Thomas. She gave him a small smile with her answer, "His name is Newt."

Thomas paused before nodding again, repeating the name under his breathe so he wouldn't forget it. _Newt. His name is Newt._

A few moments passed before Thomas looked back at her with a steady gaze. "I want to see him."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man. Feels so good to be back. Happy reading, lovelies <3


	6. I'm Sorry

_Why are you so bloody selfish?_

_He'll never forgive you._

_He needs you and you're just sitting here like a dumb shank._

_You did this to him._

_This was all your fault._

_He almost died because of you._

Newt shrieked and brought both hands to either side of his head, pressing into it as hard as he could. His breathes grew completely ragged and out of control as his arms began to tremble at the feeling of losing control. Tears squeezed through Newt's closed eyes and rolled down the side of his face and onto the floor. "Stop it," He muttered to himself between gasps for air, unable to calm himself down. 

His throat ached from crying, but the tears never stopped. Gasps and chokes escaped his mouth as he tried to push his thoughts away, the ones that were driving him mad. The ones that felt like a nightmare, that didn't even seem like they were real. "I didn't m-mean to hurt him," Newt almost whispered to himself again and again until his voice began to crack. "I'm so sorry, Tommy." 

After a while, Newt had no idea how long, he was finally able to settle down. The shaking had dulled down to just tension in his arms and hands, and the tears still built up in his eyes but never fell. And in all that time, Newt still hadn't moved from where he first fell to the floor. 

He just stayed there, unable to find the strength to move. He had none left. 

A knock on the doorway finally drew Newt from the dark depths of his mind, something he failed to do on his own. The boy looked up to see Dr. Paige, standing ten feet away with her arms hanging down at her sides. A look of surprise, but also sadness, broke through the stoic expression she typically wore on her face. 

"Newt?" She asked in a startled voice, briskly walking over to where he sat on the ground. "Are you alright? Why are you on the floor?" 

Newt sighed and looked down and tried to hide his face, which he knew was red from crying for so long. "I fell." 

Dr. Paige swooped over him, examining his wrapped leg. She gently placed a hand on it, feeling where the gash had cut through his leg. When she reached the top, Newt flinched and sucked in a sharp breathe. Pulling her hand back, Dr. Paige sighed and stood to get Newt's crutch. "You shouldn't have put so much weight on that leg, Newt," She said, reminding Newt of how his mother would speak to him whenever she knew she was right, "It doesn't look like you re-opened any of your wounds but I need to ask you to _please_ be more careful. Use the crutch." 

She stood above Newt now, reaching down to help lift Newt to his feet. Newt reluctantly took her hand and pulled his body upward until he stood on his good foot, one hand still on Dr. Paige's shoulder. 

"Here," She said, handing the crutch to Newt. 

Newt nodded in thanks as he shoved the crutch under the arm that still held onto Dr. Paige. Once balanced, he let go and gripped the crutch tightly to steady himself. "Thank you," He said quietly, looking back up at the doctor. 

Dr. Paige nodded, giving Newt a small smile. But it didn't last long as a new, more serious look flashed across her face. Sensing Newt's curiosity at her expression, she sighed. "I...just finished speaking with Thomas."

Newt's mouth fell open slightly, and he could feel the tears forming in his eyes again. But he refused to let them fall. No matter what his mind told him, he knew he had to be strong for both himself and for Thomas. Newt held his breathe as he spoke, "How is he?" 

"His injuries are healing nicely, but..." Dr. Paige trailed off, unsure of how to phrase her next sentence. "...he is struggling to remember anything that happened before coming here."

Newt nodded, a single tear escaping from his eye. He stayed quiet, afraid that speaking would make him lose control again. 

Dr. Paige continued, trying to keep her voice from wavering as much as possible. "I told him about the accident, his concussion, the coma. He knows that you were in the car and that you're here now, but he...didn't remember your name." 

Newt let his eyes fall shut, taking in a few deep and steadying breathes. 

"Once I was finished I was going to let Thomas rest, but," Dr. Paige added, as she started to make her way towards the door. "He asked for you." 

At the sound of those words, Newt's head shot back up. He hobbled over to the doctor as quickly as he could, just to hear the words again. Maybe he'd heard them wrong. "He asked for me?" 

Dr. Paige nodded. "Yes." She folded her arms across her chest as she spoke. "I think it would be good for him to see you, Newt. I've already called both of your families with the news, so you don't have to worry about that right now. Just focus on Thomas." 

And with that, the doctor swept out of the room, walking at a steady pace down the hallway. Newt, however, didn't move. 

Although he felt some guilt, Newt was also quite relieved he wouldn't have to call his or Thomas' family again. He hadn't done so since the day after the accident. It wasn't as bad with his parents, who were stuck in the U.K. and couldn't fly over to see them, but it was much worse with Thomas' family.

Ever since Thomas lost his parents to a rare disease they contracted while on a trip three years ago, Thomas isolated himself from the rest of his family. He barely called them, never wrote them, and he always chose to go home with Newt during breaks instead of his own home. So calling them to tell them what happened to Thomas wasn't easy. The only family he had left were distant relatives, who knew Thomas as a stranger. Newt was only family Thomas had.

_He asked for you._

Newt gripped his crutch tightly, pulling himself from his thoughts, while using his free hand to hold onto the wall for extra support. He took one small step forward, then another. And with every step, Newt pushed his thoughts of guilt deeper and deeper into his mind and replaced them with thoughts of Thomas. Slowly, but with the greatest determination, Newt maneuvered down the hall. He knew where every turn was, and soon he faced the hallway that led straight to Thomas' room. 

A loud pounding suddenly filled his ears, and Newt began to panic before realizing that it was his heartbeat. He could feel his stomach dropping with his final few steps towards Thomas' door. All of the confidence that he suddenly had was now gone in an instant. 

Newt was terrified. 

And not knowing what to expect, he prepared himself for the worst. Now, every step was a stab to the heart as Newt pictured Thomas talking to Dr. Paige, not knowing where or possibly even who he was. Newt had never seen him look so helpless before, and he wasn't sure it he was ready to see it again. But, he had no choice. Newt _needed_ to see Thomas. 

He needed to see his face. To hear his voice. To truly look into his eyes for the first time since the accident. 

Before he realized it, Newt was just outside Thomas' door. He reached out to grab the handle with his free hand, but paused. His eyes closed and he sucked in a few long breathes through his nose. He held it for as long as he could, and then let it all out through his mouth. Fear surged through his body as his grip tightened around the doorknob. 

The only thing that drove Newt forward was his need to see Thomas.

Newt clicked the door open and peek his head inside the room. _Be strong,_ he told himself inside his head as the door slowly swung open. But despite those words, Newt struggled not to cry at the sight of Thomas looking back at him. They sat there for a moment, eyes locked, neither of speaking or even moving. 

Newt felt his heart break as he studied Thomas' eyes. No matter how hard he looked, he couldn't find the old Thomas in them. He was lost. 

After a few moments, Thomas frowned at the blonde standing in the doorway. He recognized him as the boy that was sitting next to him when he first woke up. The boy that called out to him while he was stuck in the darkness. The boy that...kissed him. It had to be his Soulmate. He had to be Newt. 

"Newt?" Thomas said, just above a whisper. 

With that single word, Newt stepped back in shock. His eyes grew wide and his heartbeat picked up in pace. It took him too long to remember that Dr. Paige had told Thomas that his name was Newt. Thomas didn't remember on his own. When he failed to find any words, Newt simply nodded. 

Thomas saw the fear in Newt's eyes and a pang of sadness came over him. He felt the sudden need to apologize, but he had no idea what for. He just felt like he had to make up for something. Thomas eyed the chair next to him and then looked back at Newt, who hadn't moved from where he stood in the doorway. "Do you...want to sit?" Thomas asked hesitantly. 

Newt looked back and forth between the chair and Thomas a few times before slowly limping over and sitting down. He rested his crutch against the nightstand by Thomas' bed before bringing his hands tightly around his torso. He could feel the guilt starting to eat him alive again as every second passed staring at Thomas. It took all of his strength to piece together the words in his head without breaking down. 

Thomas stared back at Newt patiently, waiting for him to say something. Anything, for that matter. 

And when Newt finally looked back up at Thomas, a few tears fell down his cheeks. He sniffed and quickly wiped his face, still trying to keep himself together. "I'm...I'm so sorry," He forced out before another cry. 

Thomas frowned, feeling so helpless at the sight of Newt crying but not knowing who he was. He _knew_ Newt was his Soulmate yet at the same time he felt almost no connection to him. He was still a stranger. "Sorry about what?" Thomas asked quietly. 

Newt shook his head as he wiped more tears away. "Everything, Tommy. I'm s-sorry for everything." 

"Tommy?" Thomas asked with a frown, "I thought my name was Thomas." 

Newt let out a few heavy breathes, which was the closest he'd come to laughing in the last week. Newt looked up at him with what could have passed as a small smile as he answered. "I'm sorry, it _is_ Thomas but I've always called you that...I can call you Thomas if you wa-" 

"No, no," Thomas objected, his eyes slightly wider with his hands held up. Although his frown remained, the edges of his lips curved up into the same small smile that Newt had. "I...actually kind of liked it when you called me that." 

Newt's smile held. He reached up to wipe the tears away from his face as he spoke again. "Okay, Tommy. Whatever you like." 

Thomas nodded as the smile began to fade from his face. Newt watched as he slowly grew a more serious expression, his grip on the bedsheets now tightening. "Newt," Thomas finally said under his breathe. "What happened?" 

"The accident?" Newt asked, frowning. "I thought Dr. Paige alre-" 

"She did," Thomas cut him off, "I just...I want to hear it from you." 

Newt stared back at him with an expressionless face, so many thoughts running through his mind all at once. But he could see the determined look in Thomas' face, and he knew that he would just keep asking questions until they were all answered. 

"Okay," Newt said. "I'll tell you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to say THANK you for all of the love last week both on here and on tumblr!! Y'all always make my day so much better <3
> 
> Leave a comment if you stopped by!! I'd love to hear from you all...happy reading :)


	7. Don't Leave

Newt told Thomas everything.

He talked about the camping trip, the drive...the crash. 

Thomas listened intently, often wearing faces of confusion or even hurt. Newt pretended not to notice, knowing that Thomas was probably getting frustrated that he couldn't recall a single detail of the accident. But at the same time, Newt was also beginning to struggle. This was the longest conversation he'd had with Thomas since the accident, and every second that passed sent another wave of despair through his heart. 

But Newt's mind cleared as he spoke, only for him to experience the full reality of their situation for the first time. This was real. And talking about the accident again only made the blurred images from that night become even clearer in Newt's thoughts. A few times, Newt had to stopped and shut his eyes, trying to push away the terrifyingly clear memories in his mind that he didn't want to see.

When Newt finally finished, the two sat in silence for a long, long time. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, but it didn't feel the same as before, either. There was a heavy sadness in the room, and neither Newt or Thomas wanted to bring it up. 

Newt sat quietly, giving Thomas all of the time he needed to process what he'd just heard. But the waiting killed Newt. He was so afraid to hear what Thomas had to say, yet he had no idea as to why. As he waited his hands and arms began to shake, forcing Newt to squeeze tightly on the arms of his chair. Despite the fear that crawled across his body, Newt waited. He didn't really know what else he could do in that moment. 

Another few minutes passed before Thomas quietly nodded to himself. He'd taken the time to replay all of the events Newt told him about in his head so he'd remember them. And finally, he spoke. "That...that sounds really bad. I must've looked horrifying." His face grew pale at the thought of seeing himself the way that Newt had described him. 

Newt nodded. "They wouldn't let me see you for almost a whole week. The first time I saw you was a couple of days ago, and even then it was pretty bad..." He paused to clear the haunting sight of Thomas from his mind. Newt knew he would never forget what Thomas looked like the first time he walked into his room after the accident. "...but you're looking much better now, Tommy." 

Thomas frowned and slowly brought his hand up to gently touch the bruised and scraped side of his face. He winced and pulled his hand back with a hiss of pain. "Doesn't feel like it..."

Newt flashed him a quick smile. "Trust me on this one. You look _much_ better." 

"Okay," Thomas nodded as he moved to sit up a little more in his bed. He stared at Newt for a moment with a curious expression before glancing back down at his folded hands. Newt could sense the sudden change of mood.

"What's wrong?" Newt asked, leaning forward so that he could once again gaze into Thomas' eyes. "You alright?" 

Thomas looked up at him with a sad smile. "Yeah, I just...I have so many questions, it's kinda overwhelming." 

"Ask away," Newt said leaning back into his chair, trying to be as patient as he could with Thomas, "I have nowhere to be." 

Thomas looked up at him before speaking. "Well, uh, I guess a good place to start would be where do I live?" 

Newt let out a gentle laugh in an attempt to conceal the broken look on his face. It hurt hum so much to see Thomas like this, knowing that there wasn't anything he could do to get Thomas' memories back other than waiting. 

With a small sigh, Newt answered Thomas' questions. He told Thomas how he was born in America while Newt himself was born in Europe. They didn't meet until they both decided to attend the same university in America. But as Newt talked, he noticed that Thomas' eager expression began to falter more and more. He could start to see how Thomas was truly feeling. Flustered. Panicked. Worthless. Agitated. 

Thomas was starting to realize how broken he truly was. The weight of this nameless reality was becoming too heavy to hold, but Thomas tried with everything he had to push back. But the pressure was starting to become too great, and Thomas wouldn't be able to last much longer before he'd be crushed underneath.

"Wait, school?," Thomas suddenly asked as Newt began to talk about university, "What do I study?" 

"You're studying to be a architect," Newt answered. "Turns out you have a knack for designing things." 

"Huh, wasn't expecting that," Thomas tried to smile as he let out a surprised laugh. He slipped for a moment, letting a broken look cross his eyes before quickly masking it with a fake smile. "And what do _you_ study, Newt?" 

"Me?" Newt asked, acting surprised in attempt to cover his exhaustion. "I'm in the art school. I do a little bit of everything there." 

"Do you paint pictures and stuff?" 

Newt nodded, the same feeling of sadness filling his heart once again. He couldn't stop the memories that suddenly flooded his mind, and they were all of Thomas. One of Thomas' favorite things to do was watch Newt paint. He'd always sit just behind Newt, sometimes resting his chin on Newt's shoulder and whispering sweet praises in his ear. 

Newt winced at the familiar feeling of Thomas leaning against him fade, becoming more like a dream. Something unattainable and far off in the distance. Newt tried to hide his expression as he answered, "Yeah. I'd love to show them to you when we go home." 

"I'd like that." Thomas' forced smile wavered again at the noticeable shift in Newt's tone, but he chose to ignore it. Instead, he changed the subject to another question that had been lingering at the back of his mind since he first heard the story of the accident. His face suddenly grew much more serious, with a subtle look of fear growing in his eyes as he stared. "Hey Newt?" 

"Hmm?" 

"Does my family know what happened?" Thomas asked with a questioning frown.

Newt couldn't stop his eyes from growing wide with panic as he felt his stomach drop at Thomas' words. _He's not ready,_ Newt thought to himself frantically, _He won't be able to handle it..._

Newt hesitated, and Thomas noticed. The silence in the room was getting heavier by the second now, and Newt didn't know what to do. The same fear from before began to creep back up his body, scaring him to the point where he was unable to speak. Newt wasn't prepared, he'd never told anyone anything like this before.

"Newt?" Thomas asked, his frown growing even more apparent at the lack of Newt's response. 

"I..." Newt stuttered, lost for words. He'd been trying so hard to stay away from the topic of his family with Thomas, but now he had no way of avoiding it. In full panic, he did anything he could to stall for time. "I...don't know."

Thomas stared intensely into his eyes, studying every detail. He could see the fear, the terror, in Newt's eyes. Something was definitely off, and Thomas could sense that Newt wasn't telling him the full truth. "There's something you're not telling me, isn't there?"

Newt stared back at Thomas in shock. He didn't know what to do. "Tomm-"

"Just tell me," Thomas ordered, not willing to negotiate. There was already enough that he didn't know, so the last thing he needed was people telling him more lies.

Newt opened his mouth, but the only sound that came out was a cry. He couldn't hold it back any longer as tears began to spill down his face. "I'm sorry," Newt cried, shaking his head from side to side, "I can't tell you."

At the sight of Newt falling apart in front of him, Thomas began to feel tears form in his own eyes as well. He almost didn't want to ask what was wrong, but his desire to know what Newt had to say was stronger. "Newt," Thomas whispered, blinking his eyes quickly to try and stifle his tears, "Please."

Newt let out the breathe he didn't know he was holding and held his hands up in surrender. "Okay," He whispered, looking back up into Thomas' worried eyes. He wanted more than anything to look away, to leave the room, and have someone else tell Thomas about his parents. But Newt knew that it had to be him. With a clenched fists and eyes never leaving Thomas', Newt spoke with a soft voice. "The summer before you left for university your parents left on a trip out of the country, and..." He paused to take another deep breathe. "Tommy...they never came back."

"I don't understand," Thomas said, his breathes also quickening in fear at the change in Newt's voice.

Newt closed his eyes for a moment, causing even more silent tears to fall. It became harder and harder to breathe as his throat began to clench. He could barely continue. "Your parents, they got sick, and they...they didn't make it, Tommy."

Silence followed. Nothing but a heavy, suffocating silence.

Newt watched as emotion after emotion flashed across Thomas' face, his mind trying process what Newt had just told him. But in the end, it was all anger. Thomas' arms tensed, his shoulders broadened, and his eyes grew wide with fury as he stared at the doorway across the room. 

"I'm so s-sorry, Tommy," Newt said, his voice still gentle. "I didn't know how to tel-"

"Dont," Thomas interrupted, his eyes still locked on the door. He shook as he spoke. "We _both_ know that no matter what you say, my memories won't come back." 

Newt opened his mouth to argue, but slowly closed it when no words came. Thomas was right, after all. "I know," He whispered. 

Thomas looked back at him with a face filled with pure rage, but then, it all faded into nothing. In just seconds the look in his eyes completely shifted from anger to overwhelming guilt. Thomas sank into himself, wrapping his arms around his torso as his entire body began to shake even harder. "I'm sorry," Thomas muttered as he buried his face into his folded arms, "I...I just w-wish I could remember. I want to remember them...r-remember _us_." 

Newt didn't even realize that he was crying again as well until his vision began to blur to the point where he could barely make out Thomas in front of him. "I know, Tommy, I-"

Thomas' eyes shot back up to look directly at Newt. "Why c-can't I remember, Newt? W-why ca-"

He did get a chance to finish before he broke into another violent fit of sobs. Newt stared down at him with a blank expression, tears continuing to fall down his face. Every cry from Thomas, every tear, every tremble, sent another dagger straight through what was left of Newt's already broken heart. He couldn't do this anymore. All he did for Thomas so far was make him realize how much he didn't remember, and made him cry at the thought.

And now Thomas had to mourn the loss of his parents...for the second time.

"I'm s-sorry, Tommy," Newt said as he grabbed his crutch and tried to stand. "I'll just leave if you want me to-" 

Newt shifted as he stood, but something stopped him from getting all the way up. And when Newt turned back, he found a teary-eyed Thomas tightly gripping the edge of his sleeve. "Please," Thomas whispered as he stared desperately into Newt's eyes, "Don't leave." 

Taken by surprise, Newt slowly sat back down. He didn't try to pull his arm free, and instead let Thomas grip his sleeve long after he sat back down. Once Thomas saw that Newt was going to stay, he gently twisted Newt's arm around so that his inside wrist was facing upwards. 

With the softest of touches, Thomas removed his hand from Newt's shirt and ran his fingers over the Timer etched on his skin. Thomas never took his eyes off of it as he did so. He studied every symbol, every number, as if trying to memorize every detail about it. Thomas' fingers slid down Newt's arm even farther, not stopping at the end of his wrist. With slight hesitation, Thomas wrapped his hand around Newt's and squeezed it tightly without ever letting go. 

Newt looked back up at him with tear-filled eyes before squeezing his hand back. "We're gonna get through this, Tommy." Newt choked, not only for Thomas but for himself as well. "I promise."

Thomas nodded solemnly, his energy spent. 

Together, the two sat without any more speaking. Instead, they stared into each other's eyes with their hands gripped tightly together. Tears silently fell down both of their faces, but neither seemed to mind. 

They didn't move for hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sad one:'(
> 
> But also I wanted to thank you all once again for all of the love and support...you all never fail to make my day with all of your extremely kind messages<3
> 
> PLEASE leave a comment or kudos if you stopped by!! I seriously LOVE hearing from you guys, and it always motivates me to keep writing. Aaaand as always, thank you all and happy reading!!


	8. Lead the Way

Newt's cell phone rang for almost thirty seconds before it was able to pull him from his trance. 

He still sat at Thomas' bedside. Neither of them knew how long Newt had been there, but it didn't seem to bother either of them. Every now and then Thomas would break the silence to ask another question, his voice dull with a new hint of fear after learning about what happened to his parents. Thomas would hold his breath waiting for Newt's answer, terrified beyond belief that his question would elicit another answer that would just bring him more pain. 

With a quick hand, Newt snatched the phone that was resting in his pocket and looked at the caller ID. He could feel his entire body relax at the sight of the single name flashing on the screen with every ring of the phone. 

It was Minho. 

Newt used his free hand to grab his crutch and move it underneath his arm so he could leave, not wanting to answer the phone in front of Thomas. He turned towards Thomas as he stood, meeting him with an assuring expression. "I'll be right back," Newt said with a small and comforting smile on his face, tightening his grip on the crutch to make sure he'd regained his balance. 

Thomas frowned at first, but then replied with a small nod. Newt was the only person he knew now, and he felt an uneasy feeling stir inside his stomach at the thought of him leaving.

As soon as Newt rounded the corner outside the doorway to Thomas' room, he held his phone up to his ear and answered. "Minho?" 

"Hey Newt!" Minho answered, sending another rush of happiness through Newt. "How are you doing?" 

Newt didn't realize until now how much he missed his friend, and how much he needed to see someone from home. Slowly, he took a few more steps before propping himself up against the wall, letting out a sigh as he answered. "I'm okay. My leg still hurts like a mother, but...I'm okay." 

"That's good, Newt," Minho said, not caring to hide the relief in his voice. The last time they spoke, Newt wasn't in such a good place. "What about Thomas?" 

Newt could sense the worry in Minho's voice, despite his efforts to keep his tone positive. Newt tried his best to hide the same tone from his own voice when he replied. "I've been sitting with him for quite a few hours now. He was okay at first, but...he's having a rough time, Min. He's trying so hard not to show it, but he's hurting. I can see it in his eyes." 

"Does he know?" Minho asked, his tone suddenly more serious. 

Newt didn't have to ask to know what Minho meant. He was referring to Thomas' parents. "Yeah, he knows," Newt almost whispered. "I told him." 

"Shuck, man," Minho groaned over the phone. "I don't blame him. I'd be pretty torn up if I were in his shoes, too." 

"Yeah..." Newt said, trailing off as he imagined himself in Thomas' position. He pictured himself laying in a bed, with no memory at all, talking to strangers about an accident he didn't remember. With no recollection of that night...his Soulmate...or even his parents.

There were no words to describe the pain Newt felt at the thought.

Minho grew nervous at the silence and quickly changed the subject. The last thing he wanted to do was make Newt worry any more than he already was. "Hey, so I called to let you know that I'm only about twenty minutes out from the hospital." 

"Really?" Newt asked, surprised. He couldn't have been in Thomas' room for _that_ long, could he? "That was fast..." 

Minho laughed. "Well I may have been going slightly over the speed limit...just by a little bit, though." 

Typical Minho. Newt shook his head even though he knew Minho couldn't see him, his excitement over seeing his friend outweighing anything else in that moment. "Sure, Min. Just text me when you get here and I'll meet you."

"Okay, seeya in a few," Minho said. Newt could tell by the sound of his voice that he was smiling. 

"Bye, Min," Newt said, hanging up the phone. With a new found excitement, Newt reached for his crutch and quickly slipped it under his arm. He walked to Thomas' room quickly as he turned the volume up on his phone before shoving it back into his pocket. 

He didn't even realize that he slipped on the final turn before reaching Thomas' room until he slid into the wall with a loud thud. Newt was able to catch himself, but not before slamming his bad leg into the side of the wall. A stinging feeling ripped its way up Newt's leg as he hissed in pain and reached for the wound. He clutched at his thigh, pressing down hard until the pain began to subside. 

"Ow!" A voice that echoed through the hallway cut Newt's concentration. He knew that voice. It was Thomas'. Newt began to walk again, this time being much more careful with his crutch as he rounded the last turn into Thomas' room. 

And before Newt could say a word, Thomas was already questioning him. "What did you do? Are you okay?" 

Newt frowned. "What are you..." He began, but trailed off at the sight of Thomas clutching one of his legs. For a moment, he'd almost forgotten that Thomas could feel all of the pain that he felt. Newt sighed, feeling guilty. "Sorry about that, Tommy...I slipped when I was walking back here." 

Now it was Thomas' turn to sigh. "That's the second time today, Newt. I mean, I didn't know what it was the first time because you hadn't come back here yet, but still. You should be more careful with your leg. I'm not the only one that's hurt, you know." 

"Yeah, I know," Newt said as he hobbled over to the side of Thomas' bed and sat down in his chair. "But I got a call from someone, and I was really eager to tell you."

Thomas cocked his head, with a look of both curiosity and fear flashing across his eyes. "Who called?" 

Newt gave him a smile in return. "His name is Minho. He's a great friend and we all go to the same university together."

Thomas paused, as if concentrating on something. He looked up at Newt with a apprehensive expression and spoke. "He's my friend, too?" 

Newt's calm expression broke for a short moment before he covered it up and nodded in response. "He's visiting us and he'll be here in about twenty minutes, so I'm going to go meet him and bring him up. Is that alright, if he visits you?" 

With a quick nod of his head, Thomas answered. Although he began to feel a little excited, it was getting harder and harder to hide his nervousness from Newt. "Yeah, of course." 

"Good that," Newt answered with a smile as he stood. "I'll be back in a bit." 

Thomas watched as Newt carefully rounded the corner out of his room. A anxious feeling began to build in his stomach and make its way up to his chest. His heartbeat grew quicker, so strong now that Thomas swore he could hear it echoing around the room. Besides Newt, Minho is the first person Thomas is going to meet from his life, and Thomas didn't know what to do. 

He already felt bad enough that he couldn't remember anything he'd done with Newt, and Thomas wasn't sure if he was ready to face that all again with Minho. With a deep breathe, Thomas tried to calm himself down, knowing that his nerves would only make things worse. _It's not my fault that I can't remember,_ Thomas thought to himself as his breathes grew slower and calmer. _It's going to be fine_. 

And then he waited.

Since it was too hard to use the stairs, and the elevator was constantly in use, Newt stayed at the top of the stairs. Phone gripped tightly in his hand, he waited for the familiar buzzing of his phone to indicate Minho had arrived. As the minutes drew on, Newt could feel his excitement growing in his stomach. Ever since they arrived at the hospital Newt refused Minho's offers to come down, not wanting to him to dedicate so much time to them.

And with Minho on his way, Newt's desire to see a friend from home grew even stronger. Newt needed someone that he could talk to, someone that would understand, and Newt knew that Minho was the only person who could.

An alert from the phone finally pulled Newt from his thoughts. It buzzed a few times, a new message flashing across the screen. Newt read the message, his grip on his crutch growing tighter as he did so. _On my way up!_ the message read. With a smile, Newt shoved his phone back into his pocket and limped over to the door that led to the stairs. He moved so that he stood right in front of it, anxiously waiting for his friend's arrival.

Time seemed to slow as Newt heard the sound of familiar footsteps echoing up the stairs. He'd been so excited to see Minho, but now all he could feel was fear. This was the first time Newt was going to see Minho since the accident. The last time they were together, everything was normal. There was no accident, and Thomas had his memories. They were happy.

As the images of their last meeting filled Newt's mind, his heart began to race at the thought of them being together again now. So much had changed. And the worst part was that Newt didn't know if it would ever be the same again.

Newt sucked in a deep breathe as the footsteps grew louder and closer, and he froze when they came to a stop. He watched in silence as the door handle in front of him turned before the door slowly swung open, with a single person standing on the other side.

Minho.

The two locked eyes as soon as the door was completely open. They just stood there at first, not moving or speaking. It suddenly felt like the world they were in was a dream, that what was happening couldn't be real. But it was.

"Newt," Minho said, taking a step forward. He looked Newt up and down multiple times, taking in the sight. Newt still had a few bruises and scratches, but they looked mostly healed. His leg was still wrapped tightly in a cast, and he was propped up so that he was putting all his weight on his good foot on the crutch that rested under his arm.

Even with the all the time he had during the drive down, Minho didn't think to prepare himself for what he might see. The fact that the accident happened over a week ago now and Newt still looked like this gave Minho an unsettling feeling. As much as he tried to push them back, he couldn't fend off the images that invaded his mind of what Newt must have looked like the _day_ of the accident.

And then he thought of Thomas....and he probably looked even worse right after the crash. With a quick shake of his head, Minho pushed the thoughts away. He knew he couldn't focus on that now, and should instead be thankful that both Newt and Thomas survived the crash. They were both alive and awake, and that's all that mattered to Minho.

Looking back at Newt, Minho put on a comforting smile. "Hey," He said, taking a few more steps until he was directly in front of Newt. "I'm so glad you're both oka-"

Before Minho could finish, Newt pulled him into a tight hug, keeping one arm on his crutch to steady himself. Minho paused for a moment before laughing and hugging Newt back. It wasn't until they embraced that Newt knew for sure that this was real. Minho was really here, and it was already bringing him comfort.

Overwhelmed with emotion, Newt had to hold back tears. Joy from seeing Minho, worry of what could happen to their friendship, heartbreak over the whole situation they were all stuck in. It was almost too much to contain. But after a few deep breathes, Newt was able to calm himself down and pull away. "Thanks for coming, Min."

"Are you kidding?" Minho scoffed, "I would've been here sooner if you weren't so persistent about not letting me visit before."

Newt shrugged, at a loss for an excuse. "I'm sorry, I just...I didn't know what would be best."

"No problem, bud," Minho said, patting Newt's shoulder. He looked as though he was about to speak again, but then his eyes widened in surprise. "Oh shuck, I almost forgot! Wait here."

Before he could reply, Newt stood in confusion as Minho ran off back towards the stairs and rounded the corner. Just a few seconds later, he returned with his arms stuffed full of gifts. Minho looked at Newt expectantly, a smile growing on his face. "Well, what do you think?" He asked eagerly.

Newt eyes widened at the sight. Minho stood there, two big wrapped presents in his arms, along with some flowers and a bundle of balloons. Newt couldn't help but laugh, and it felt good. It was one of the first times he'd done so in over a week. "...It's great, Min," Newt chuckled as he tried to catch his breathe.

Minho studied Newt's reaction closely. "Is it too much?" He asked sheepishly, awkwardly shifting the boxes in his arms.

Newt laughed again and shook his head, "No, no, they're fantastic, really. I guess I'm just surprised that I didn't see this coming..."

A proud expression grew on Minho's face. He jumbled the boxes again as he took a few confident strides towards Newt, leaning in with a sly smile. "Ha! And you call yourself my best friend."

Newt jokingly rolled his eyes, "Come on, you big lug. Tommy's been waiting a while. We should get going."

With an exaggerated shrug, Minho leaned over and nodded his head towards the hallway in front of them. "Lead the way."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 hi. you all are so great. thanks for reading, lovelies <3


	9. You Hear Me?

"How's he holding up?" Minho asked, his voice echoing down the hallway along with the sound his and Newt's muffled footsteps. He kept a slow pace, making sure that he wasn't walking too quickly for Newt. Even though it'd been a week, his leg was still clearly bothering him.

Newt sighed, but kept his eyes forward. "He's better now than he was a few hours ago, I think. I mean he's been awake for less than a day, but...he's just trying to adjust. Learn as much as he can about his life." 

Minho nodded, trying to hide the timid look on his face. The last thing he wanted to do was upset Thomas unintentionally. Without another word, he followed closely to Newt until they made the final turn. They stopped outside of what Minho could only assume was Thomas' room. Newt turned to give one final look of sadness towards Minho before limping towards the room. But when Newt suddenly put on a smile as he opened the door, Minho couldn't help but wonder how much of it was actually real.

With a deep breathe, Minho followed Newt into the room, his gifts still bunched tightly in his arms. His eyes quickly scanned the area before stopping on the boy that lay tucked underneath the covers on the bed. He definitely looked like Thomas, but at the same time...he didn't. His hair was still growing in from where they had to shave it, and the bruises and scratches that laced his face and arms were even darker and more plentiful than Newt's. 

It didn't take long for Minho to notice the look in Thomas' eyes. It was different than before. Of course, Minho knew before arriving that Thomas didn't have his memories, but he just didn't prepare himself for Thomas to look at him the way he did. 

Like he was a stranger. 

It hurt to see Thomas so broken, but Minho knew that what Thomas really needed right now was a friend. Someone else from his life that would help take care of and guide him. Thomas needed more people he could trust to help rebuild what was lost, in case it never came back. And as much as Newt didn't want to admit it Minho, he needed his friend just as much as Thomas, if not more. 

Shaking his thoughts from his mind, Minho pulled his attention back to Thomas, who was looking back at him with a confused yet eager expression. With a friendly smile, Minho greeted him. "Hey, Thomas! How're you doing, bud?" 

Without an answer, Thomas watched Minho as he carefully placed all of his gifts on the table near the door before brushing his hands together and turning around. He placed both hands on his hips and took a few more steps towards the bed, patiently waiting for an answer from Thomas. 

Thomas panicked for a moment as he realized he forgot the boy's name. He searched his mind, frowning in frustration when nothing came up. He felt terrible for not even remembering his own friend's name, even after Newt had told him. 

Newt saw this, and knew exactly what was happening. "Tommy this is our friend that I told you was visiting. This is Minho." 

Thomas felt his body relax as he nodded, looking back up at Minho. "I'm sorry, Minho...I keep trying to remember, I just-"

Minho held his hands out in front of him, shaking his head. He took another few steps forward and took a seat next to Newt at the side of Thomas' bed. "Don't worry about it, Thomas. You can't help it."

Thomas looked down in shame. He knew that Minho was right, but at the same time, he felt so powerless. There just had to be _something_ he could do to help himself remember everything, wasn't there? 

"Thomas?" Minho asked, the smile on his face still there but starting to fade. "You hear me?"

Thomas wanted to reply, wanted to say he understood...but he just couldn't bring himself to move. Instead, his thoughts gnawed away at his heart, reminding him again and again that no matter what Thomas did, things couldn't just go back to the way they were. _Someday soon,_ He'd told himself earlier that day, everything will be back normal. But looming in the back of his mind were the darkest speculation of all: That his memories would never return.

Minho sighed at the lack of response, leaning in so that he could look Thomas in the eye again. When Thomas leaned away even further, Minho snapped. "Look at me, Thomas." 

Thomas sat up, with both surprise and a little fear in his eyes. "What?"

"Thomas, I want you to know. The kind of crash you two were in, not everyone gets to just walk away from that. When I first got the call that night, I thought you were both gone. I thought I lost you. So when I found out that _both_ of you survived, it was one of the best days of my life. And yeah, I know neither of you made it out without some consequences...but you're both alive. And that matters more to me than anything else. Even with a bad leg, or some lost memories. You're both still here, that's what counts." Minho sat back in his chair, his body releasing the tension that had built while he spoke. 

Newt, who'd been quietly watching Minho in surprise, reached over and pat his shoulder. It wasn't often that Minho ever broke from his relaxed and down-to-earth stature. They shared a look of agreement and thanks before both turning to face Thomas. Newt spoke first. "He's right, you know." 

Thomas let out the shaky breathe that he'd been holding as he finally looked back up at them. Tears filled both his eyes, threatening to spill. With a quick hand, Thomas reached up and wiped them away before they fell. He studied both Newt's and Minho's faces and found nothing but love and genuine concern. But at the same...time it tore him apart. 

These people clearly cared for Thomas immensely, yet he was barely able to reciprocate anything back to them. For Thomas, they'd just met for the first time today. Thomas wished more than anything that he could give back that same love right now, but he knew that it would happen over time. He just had to hold onto the hope that his memories would return soon. But for now, he had to try with what he had. Thomas didn't want to let them down. 

With a nod, Thomas glanced back at Minho wearing a thankful look. "You're right. I know it could've been a lot worse." He paused and took a steady breathe, "Thanks, Minho." 

"That's what I'm here for, buddy," Minho said, reaching over to give Thomas a few pats on his shoulder. A smile grew on his face as he leaned back into his chair, suddenly remembering the gifts he'd brought for both Newt and Thomas. He quickly stood, making his way across the room. 

Thomas watched him, his eyes suddenly landing on the huge pile of presents that sat across the room. Of course, he saw them when Minho first came in, but Thomas wasn't focused on them at the time. And now, he realized how much there was. "Is all of that for us?" 

Minho turned around with a huge grin on his face, holding two wrapped boxes in his arms. "Of course," He said as he made his was back to the bed. He handed one to Newt and the other to Thomas before sitting back down excitedly. 

"Minho, you really didn't have to d-" Newt started. 

"Slim it, Newt. And it's too late. I already got you the stuff so you might as well open it, shuck-face." Minho laughed as he leaned back and folded his arms across his chest. "You first." 

Newt tried to hide his smile with a sigh, but he knew he failed when Minho let out another laugh. Without wasting any more time, Newt ripped the paper off the box and tossed it to the ground. He flipped over the lid to the box, lifting up the tissue paper that was stuffed inside. Sounds of ruffling filled the room as Newt dug through the box, but as quickly as it started, it all came to a stop. 

"Oh my god, Min..." Newt started, looking back up at him with wide eyes. "You didn't." 

Minho smiled back with a knowing nod. "I did." 

Newt sighed and pushed the box away from him. "I...I can't accept this, Minho." 

"Too bad," Minho said, shrugging his shoulders. "It's non-returnable. Looks like you're stuck with it." 

"What is it?" Thomas asked, trying to lean forward enough to see into the box. 

Newt looked up at him with a mix of shock and denial written across his face. "Well, about a month or two ago we were all at the mall and we passed this art store. They had _this_ sitting in the display window." Newt paused and lifted the box to show Thomas. Thomas studied the inside, spotting a large sketchbook, a set of charcoal and lead pencils, along with a small set of paints. "Anyway," Newt continued, "I pointed it out when we walked by, but I never thought I'd actually get it because it was so expensive..." 

"It was worth it just to see that look on your face," Minho laughed, shaking his head. "I'm seriously not taking it back, though." 

"I figured as much," Newt muttered, with a sarcastic roll of his eyes. Sighing of defeat, Newt gave Minho a big smile. "Thank you, I honestly don't know what else to say." 

"You're welcome," Minho said, accepting a quick and appreciative hug from Newt. Once they separated, Minho turned to Thomas with an expectant look on his face. "Alright, Thomas. You're turn."

Thomas nodded as he turned to inspect his gift. A nervous feeling began to build in his stomach while he began to tear at the paper. Newt's gift was so personal. If Minho had done with same for Thomas, how would he know? He wouldn't be able to recognize anything he enjoyed from before. But of course, Thomas had Minho and Newt there to help him if he needed it.

Newt grabbed all of the wrapping paper once it was torn off before folding it in his hands and tossing it on top of his own on the floor. Thomas paused after tearing all the paper off, holding the box up to his ear and shaking it. Whatever was inside had a bunch of small pieces.

Newt and Minho both laughed. "Oh, come on Tommy," Newt said between laughs, "Just open it!"

Thomas jokingly rolled his eyes and gave them a small smile back. Excitement began to replace the fear inside him at the looks of happiness on Newt's and Minho's faces. This is the happiest he'd felt since waking up in this place, and Thomas was very glad for it. He wanted to enjoy this moment.

If anything, he wanted to make new memories. To fill the void in his mind.

Bringing the package back down to his lap, Thomas carefully slipped the lid off and placed it aside. He dug through the tissue paper, quickly feeling out multiple smaller packages with his fingers. With a curious look, Thomas pulled the last sheet of paper away. A surprised look grew on his face at the sight of the box's contents. "Woah..." Thomas gasped.

Slowly, Thomas lifted the largest of the boxes out and held it up.

"Did Newt remind you what your major was?" Minho asked, lifting his eyebrows and nodding towards the box.

Thomas nodded, still studying the box. A small smile grew on his face as he answered, "Architecture."

Minho gave him a knowing smile before Newt spoke up, "What is it? I can't see."

Thomas glanced up at Newt, turning the box to face him. "It's a 3-D puzzle. Look," He said, pointing to the picture on the front, "it makes a castle!"

"Wow," Newt said, leaning in to get a better look. "I've never seen one of those before...where'd you find it, Min?"

Minho shrugged. "The mall. Not far from where I got your stuff, actually. But I figured it'll give you something to do in here before you can come home," He turned to Thomas before speaking again. "Keep going, Thomas. There's more in there for you."

Thomas placed the puzzle at his side and reach back into the original box. This time, he pulled out a small plastic tin. He pulled the lid off to find a few dozen snicker-doodles sitting underneath. He looked up with an amused but slightly sad expression. "These are my favorite, aren't they?"

"You got it," Minho said with a wink, noticing Thomas' expression. He knew that the gifts might make Thomas a little sad because he couldn't remember them, but he wanted to bring back a little bit of home for Thomas. To show him some more parts of his life so they wouldn't be lost. "Made those things myself and everything."

Newt scoffed, "And when did you have time to do that?"

Minho smirked, gesturing to himself from top to bottom with his hands. "Please, Newt. Look who you're talking to here. That was nothing."

Thomas laughed as he snapped the lid back on the container before reaching in the box to lift out his final gift. It was small and rectangular, wrapped in additional tissue paper. With a careful hand, Thomas tore off the remaining paper and let it fall to the floor. The sight before him made his entire body freeze. He held his breathe, staring at the item before him.

It was a picture frame, and inside was an image of a group of people. Thomas studied the faces of the group, looking for anyone he knew. He spotted himself pretty quickly, along with Newt and Minho, who were on either side of him. Then there were others he didn't recognize. There was only one girl in the picture, and she stood by a few other boys. The whole group was smiling with linked arms, all of them looking so...happy.

"Who are they?" Thomas asked, not taking his eyes from the picture.

Minho wore a sad but unsurprised look on his face. "Those are our friends from college. That's where we all met."

Thomas nodded, expecting that answer. He studied everyone's faces, as if trying to memorize every single detail. A strong sadness overtook him at first, with a deep longing to have his memories again. Everyone looked so excited in the picture, and Thomas wanted to experience that moment again. "What are their names?" He asked quietly.

Minho scooted over and Thomas turned the picture so that he and Newt could both see it as well. Minho then raised a finger and named everyone off in the picture starting from left to right. "Well, that's Siggy, but, we usually call him Frypan. Then there's Teresa, lil' Chuckie...we call Chuck that cause he's the youngest, me, you, Newt, Zart, and that's Alby on the end."

Thomas nodded with every name, trying to match them with the faces pictured in front of him. And as hard as he tried, he couldn't remember a single thing about any of them. It's not that he expected to recall anything, but there was always that small piece of hope that said he might. But the longer Thomas stared, the more engrossed he became. He wanted to know the story behind the picture, this friendship, everything...

"I wasn't sure if it was a good idea to make you this or not," Minho started, hesitance in his voice. "But in the end I thought that you would want to see it."

Thomas looked back up at him, not even realizing that he was crying until he saw the concerned looks on both Newt and Minho's faces. Newt quickly reached over to rest his hand on Thomas' arm to comfort him, while Minho reached for the picture.

"Oh shuck, I'm sorry, Thomas. I'll just ta-" Minho tried to say before being cut off by Thomas.

"No, no, wait," Thomas said, pulling the picture away from Minho's reach. "I want to keep it."

"Are you sure, Tommy?" Newt asked, concern still in his eyes as he ran a soothing hand down Thomas' arm.

"Yes," Thomas said as he blinked back tears, his voice certain.

"Thomas, if it's just gonna make you sad, then you don't have t-" Minho tried to speak again.

"No, it's no that," Thomas said, shaking his head. "I mean, yeah I'm sad that I can't remember these people. But if anything, it makes me want to go back and see them even more. Seeing all of us like this...it makes me want to feel that again, whether it's done by getting my memories back, or making new ones."

Newt and Minho both shared a surprised look before turning back to Thomas with sad smiles. Newt nodded and whispered, "Okay," as he slowly picked up the frame from Thomas' lap and placed it onto the nightstand next to his bed.

Without another word, Thomas leaned forward and pulled Minho into an embrace. "Thank you, Minho. I mean it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longer chapter today ;)
> 
> Thanks for all the love, everyone. I love hearing from you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


	10. Want to Remember

The trio sat in Thomas' room for what felt like hours. They talked and talked, all while passing around Thomas' tub of cookies and snacking on them one by one. Most of the time was spent answering more of Thomas' questions, which consisted mostly of university and their friends back home. 

After some time, Dr. Paige stopped by so she could check on Newt's leg. She would've preferred to see him sooner, knowing that he'd fallen, but she also had to keep in mind that Newt wouldn't have wanted to get checked before seeing Thomas again. On her way back out the door, Dr. Paige turned and glanced between Minho and Thomas a few times. The hospital was fairly strict with visiting hours, but she subtly signaled to Minho that he could stay. She could already see the positive impact Minho's presence was having on both Thomas and Newt. They needed this. 

Before Minho could thank her, she had already swept around the corner and out into the hallway with Newt, the echo of their footsteps growing softer with every second. Minho looked back at Thomas with a surprised grin, "Well it looks like I can stay for a while. What do ya wanna do?" 

A thoughtful look came over Thomas' face as his eyes slowly began to drift over to the end table next to his bed. On top of it sat his gifts, including the unopened puzzle. With a glance back at Minho, Thomas raised his eyebrows in question before nodding his head toward the box. 

Minho followed Thomas' glance, his eyes landing on the puzzle. With a smile, he reached for it and handed it to Thomas. He held up two fists and cracked the knuckles on both of his hands, as if he was about to enter a fight. He nodded at Thomas with a jokingly serious look. "Let's do this." 

To make space for the puzzle, Minho cleared everything else off of the nightstand by Thomas' bed and placed it onto the floor. Carefully, as to not make too much noise for their downstairs neighbors, Minho slid the small table across the floor so that it sat perfectly between himself and Thomas. Without hesitation, Thomas opened the box and dumped some of the pieces on his bed, and the others onto the table. 

Using both of their hands, Minho and Thomas wearing very focused looks as they dug through the scattered pieces. They searched for pieces that could work as the base of the castle first, setting the desired pieces aside as they were found. Once they had a few pieces picked out, Minho and Thomas got straight to work. The two were silent at first, too focused on finding the right pieces to talk to each other. But after a while Thomas' hands began to slow, and he spoke up. 

Thomas was able to fit many pieces together at first, but he then began to have more trouble with the first floor of the castle. Minho glanced up at him a few times, but chose to ignore it when Thomas continued to look at the puzzle instead of him. But something changed, and Minho could sense it.

"Can I ask you something?" Thomas suddenly muttered in a quiet voice, not taking his eyes off of the pieces as he clumsily dropped his puzzle pieces on the table after failing to find the right spot for them. His mind has clearly drifted somewhere else.

"Of course you can, bud. What's on your mind?" Minho asked, his voice both calm and patient. But there was also a sense of fear as well, after seeing the sudden switch in Thomas' behavior. Minho reached up and placed two of the puzzle pieces on the table, connecting them together with a snap.

Thomas hesitated for a few moments, unsure of how to approach his question. It was something he'd been wondering all day, but didn't have the courage to ask Newt while he was there. So he knew this was probably his only chance to ask. With a deep breathe, Thomas pushed his nervousness aside and spoke. "Well, Newt told me about the accident. He said we were away on a trip when it happened, but...that's all he said about it. It felt like he was leaving something else out."

Minho looked down, but Thomas noticed his quick change of expression before it slipped away, out of his view. Thomas sat patiently, anxiety building in the pit of his stomach at Minho's hesitation to answer. After a few seconds, Minho lifted his head, flashing Thomas a small yet sad smile. "Yeah," Minho almost whispered, nodding. "He left something out."

Thomas frowned, almost too nervous to ask any more questions. His hands, which held two puzzle pieces, gently fell to rest on his lap. "What didn't he tell me?"

Minho's eyes glazed over for a moment, his face wearing a very conflicted expression. Thomas could tell that he was debating whether or not Minho should tell him, especially if Newt never told him in the first place. There must have been a reason he left something out of the story.

"Just tell me," Thomas said, preparing himself for the worst yet having no idea what to expect. It felt like a war was raging inside of him, with a furious battle between curiosity and dread. But curiosity won in the end. "Please."

Minho gave Thomas one final questioning look before letting out a heavy sigh. He answered in a quiet voice, "You guys were actually celebrating on the trip. The day before the accident was, um...yours and Newt's one year anniversary of the day you met."

A heavy silence filled the room.

Thomas felt the puzzle pieces he just grabbed slip from his hands and land on the blanket. He could feel his heartbeat growing faster and more intense as the idea anchored itself into his mind. Tension spread across Thomas' body as he unconsciously began to lift one of his arms out in front of him. Thomas glanced down, his stare burning into the numbers that were etched on his wrist.

His Timer.

Raising his other hand, Thomas reached over and gingerly traced every digit with his finger. Five zeroes, all marking that Thomas had already met his Soulmate. And now Thomas was learning that his Timer had been that way for just over a full year now.

"A year," The words fell from Thomas' mouth in a gasp as he sucked in a harsh breathe. He brought both arms in and wrapped them around his torso, staring into nothing. "An entire _year_?"

Minho watched as a look of pain flashed across Thomas' face. "Thomas..." Minho started, his voice growing more panicked. He began to regret telling Thomas the full truth, unsure of how to handle his reaction to the news.

Thomas reached up suddenly, wildly gesturing one of his hands towards his head as he shook it side to side. He had to suck in a sharp breathe before he was able to speak, and his clenched throat stung to do so. "Nothing's there, Minho. There's just a...a big _hole_ where that year should be...I..."

"Thomas, look at me," Minho said, clearly worried now. He scooted his chair a few inches closer to the bed.

But Thomas ignored him. "I'm missing so much, I...I don't know where we've lived together, what we've done together...I don't even remember how we _met,_ Minho."

Thomas' eyes shot back up at Minho with those last words, and Minho didn't waste another second reaching over to place a steady hand on Thomas' shoulder. Tears began to spill down Thomas' face again, his sobbing growing almost uncontrollable. Thomas brought his hands back up to his head, gripping either side. He had to let go, however, when he winced in pain at the touch.

"Thomas," Minho said, gently shaking Thomas' shoulder. This time, Thomas responded and glanced back up at him, tears still falling from his already swollen eyes. At the sight, Minho stood from his chair and practically flew to the bed to pull Thomas into a strong embrace.

Thomas' face scrunched as he reached up and buried his face tightly in Minho's shoulder. "...I just w-want to remember h-him," Thomas whimpered, so quietly that Minho could barely make out his words. Minho took a shaky breathe, trying to hold his own tears back at the sound of Thomas' broken voice. He'd never heard such pain in Thomas' voice before.

At a loss for words, Minho hugged Thomas even tighter, trying his best to comfort his friend. Thomas was trembling now, his enter body heaving with every cry that left his mouth.

"I know, Thomas," Minho said, unable to stop a single tear slipping from his eye and down his cheek. "I know."

###### 

Dr. Paige led Newt to one of the examination rooms down the hall, having him sit on the table while she sat in the chair next to it. "Now let's have a look," She said, leaning over so that she was directly above Newt's injured leg, which laid flat across the table.

Newt propped himself up with his hands behind him on the table, also wanting to see the extent of any new damages to his leg. He'd noticed that some of the pain came back earlier, but he didn't want to mention anything.

With steady yet gentle hands, Dr. Paige lifted the bandage from Newt's leg and disposed of it. She leaned over the wound once again, her hands hovering just over each end of the gash. "Well," She breathed, her eyes still on Newt's leg, "The good news is that all of your stitches are still in tact. But there's some new bruising here." Dr. Paige reached over and pointed to a few patches of reds, browns, and blues.

The doctor leaned back so that Newt could see. He studied the new bruised areas and gave Dr. Paige a slight nod, indicating he understood. "Okay," Was all he said.

Dr. Paige sighed. "Remember to always use your crutch and to take care of _yourself_ , too," She said firmly, "Please."

Newt nodded again, this time looking down at his lap. He didn't say anything this time.

Dr. Paige stared at him, studying his reaction, before reaching down into a draw and pulling out bandages, hydrogen peroxide, and some sterile cotton wipes. "I'm gonna clean it one more time, in case there are any re-opened areas I missed."

Newt watched in silence as she opened the large brown bottle and held a cotton wipe at the top. She tipped the bottle back and forth repeatedly, just enough to dampen the cloth. Slowly, she reached over and began to dab the cloth of Newt's leg. It didn't hurt at first, which was a good sign that the wound was starting to close completely. But as the doctor got closer to the inside of Newt's leg, a familiar and sharp sting crawled its way into the wound.

Newt hissed and buried his face in his shoulder, holding his breathe until the prickling pain began to finally subside. When he looked back up, Dr. Paige was already wrapping a new clean bandage around his wound.

"Your mind is somewhere else," Dr. Paige said suddenly, just as she finished wrapping Newt's leg. She looked back up at Newt and leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, awaiting an answer. "How are you doing?"

Newt looked back at her in surprise, shocked that she was able to see through his stoic look. He took a moment to collect his thoughts before answering quietly, "Well, I spent practically the whole day with Tommy, and he's-"

"I didn't ask about Thomas, Newt," Dr. Paige interrupted, her face more serious now, "I asked about you."

"Uh..." Newt started, not really knowing where to begin. He dug deep inside of himself, looking for some kind of answer. And he surprised himself when he came up with almost nothing. He'd been putting so many of his thoughts towards Thomas that he never really stopped to think about how _he_ was doing. Unconsciously, Newt's mind drifted back towards Thomas. "I guess I just...I'm scared for Thomas."

"How so?" Dr. Paige asked patiently.

"He's trying so hard to adjust, and I...I can just see in his eyes that he's hurting and there's nothing else I can do to help...I'm scared at the thought that he might never get his memories back," Newt nearly whispered, tears forming in his eyes. "What happens then?"

Dr. Paige gave Newt a sad but knowing look. "I know you must feel helpless at a time like this, but you need to remember that Thomas needs you just as much as you need him right now. He's lost, and he needs someone to help him find his way back."

Newt stared at her, tears still building in his eyes yet he was transfixed with her words.

"Like I told you before, there's no guarantee whether Thomas will regain all of his old memories or not, and that's a scary thought," Dr. Paige continued, her voice and expression sincere. "But I've seen other couples go through the exact same thing as you, and if they can make it through this, then so can you two. You just have to be patient. Memories or no memories, time is what will heal both of you."

Newt didn't say anything for a long time, her words replaying in his mind over and over again. He sucked in a deep breathe, held it, and let it out with a heavy sigh. With a small nod of his head, Newt looked back up at Dr. Paige with a driven look in his eyes. "I'll be there for him, I always will be...but I'm still scared, and I don't know why."

"It's okay to be scared," Dr. Paige said soothingly, her expression softening. "That's what makes us human."

With a soft smile, Newt nodded back at her. "You're right," He said, a new wave of calm passing through his body, "Thank you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY I had to skip a week of updates because my schedule was so busy, and losing an hour for daylight savings didn't help haha. Thanks for your patience everyone, and happy reading!


	11. All Your Fault

By the time Dr. Paige was finished with Newt's leg, Minho had left for the night and Thomas was fast asleep in his bed. Newt stopped just a few steps past the doorway, letting out a relieved sigh. He was a bit sad that he miss Minho's departure, but the sight of Thomas finally getting some good rest put him at ease. After the day Thomas had, Newt was scared he'd have some trouble falling asleep.

Newt was about to turn and head back towards his own room when he spotted a folded piece of paper resting on the edge of Thomas' nightstand. He hobbled over to the table, maneuvering around the furniture while being extra careful not to hit his leg on any of it. Across the bed Newt spotted what he assumed to be the puzzle that Minho got Thomas sitting on the table as well, most of the pieces sitting in a pile still waiting to be connected. Turning back to the table, Newt frowned when he saw that the name written on the outside of the paper was his own.

He quietly grabbed the note and unfolded it to find that it was a note from Minho. 

_Hey Newt_

_While you were gone Thomas was asking some questions and got a little upset. I told him about your trip, why you went. I think he just needs some more time for everything to sink in. I sat with Thomas for a bit after that, until he fell asleep. It didn't take long, but it was getting late and I needed to take off. I'm staying in the motel nearby if you need me. I'll be back tomorrow._

_Minho_

Newt read the note twice before folding the paper back up into his hand, turning to leave. But then he stopped, glancing back towards Thomas one last time. He slept so peacefully. It was the calmest he'd looked since waking up from his coma. Newt studied his face and all of its features as he unconsciously took a step closer towards the edge of the bed. 

Bruises and scratches still marked Thomas' face and neck, but underneath was something more familiar. The way Thomas' nose twitched in his sleep, and how he laid with one arm tucked under his head with the other folded in front of him. His breathes were so quiet that, if it wasn't for the steady rise and fall of his chest, Newt would've thought he wasn't breathing at all. 

Thomas always looked like that when he slept...even before the crash. 

He wasn't sure why, but Newt began to feel just the smallest bit of hope begin to grow inside of him. Seeing Thomas like this told Newt that somewhere, no matter how deep or how well-hidden, the old Thomas was still in there somewhere. Newt just had to wait for him to find his way back out.

Despite of his injured leg, Newt leaned over the bed with ease and placed the gentlest of kisses on top of Thomas' forehead. He lingered there for a few moments before pulling back slowly, his eyes never leaving Thomas' face. "Goodnight, Tommy," He whispered as he turned and walked towards the door. After taking one final look at Thomas, Newt left and made his way to his own room. 

After such an eventful day, Newt was disappointed when he woke from yet another restless night. Although he didn't remember waking up, the fact that his blankets were on the floor and pillows half hanging off the bed indicated a rough night full of endless tossing and turning. 

The next few days passed along with a similar tone, containing both ups and downs. Minho arrived fairly early the next morning, surprising the two once again with a gift of fresh donuts and coffee from one of the bakeries nearby. And despite the all of the emotional hardships Thomas had faced the previous day, he seemed to be doing better. _Or_ , Newt guiltily thought to himself that morning, _he's just getting better at hiding how he's really feeling_. 

Newt tried to push his negative thoughts away and focus on Minho and Thomas instead, but he never got them to fully disappear. Instead they prowled through the shadows in his mind, waiting for the right time to strike. It was usually nighttime, when Newt was alone in his dark and empty room, that they did. There wasn't anything he could do to stop it once they had their grip around his heart.

The following day, the three of them all worked on completing Thomas' puzzle, but it didn't take long for Thomas to become so engrossed that he didn't even notice when Newt and Minho stopped to watch him finish it instead. The two let Thomas complete it on his own, much preferring to watch the joy on his face when clicking the final rooftop into place to complete the castle. 

Another common occurrence was for Minho to whip his laptop out of his backpack that he brought and pull up some of his favorite films and shows. And to Minho and Newt's enjoyment, Thomas' reactions were just like the ones he had the first time he'd watched them. One night, when there was nothing interesting on Thomas' television, Minho let Thomas keep his laptop overnight so that he could finish the season of the show that they'd started earlier that day. 

Within just a few days of Thomas first waking up from his coma, his concussion was finally beginning to show some improvement. His skin had healed enough so that he no longer had to wear a bandage, and the bruises on his face had begun to fade until they were only visible up close. And Thomas wasn't the only one who was improving. 

Newt had managed to stay completely off his bad leg for multiple days, enough for the opening to heal on its own. After an approval from Dr. Paige, he was able to ditch the crutch for a thick bandage and heavy duty thigh brace. On that same day, Thomas was also allowed to stand and leave his room for one of the first times since the accident. 

Newt offered to help Thomas walk at first, but he was quickly denied by the doctor as he could barely even support his _own_ weight with his leg. With a sad sigh, Newt limped out of the room and waited outside the doorway for Thomas to follow. 

With a look of determination, Thomas gripped the sides of his bed hard before pushing off. He lasted only a few seconds on his feet before falling back down against the side of the bed, dizziness overcoming him. Minho helped him the second time by offering a steadying hand. This time, as Thomas stood, his head began to pound at the sudden movement of standing so quickly. 

"Agh," Newt grunted from the hallway as he peaked inside the room. He was rubbing the side of his head with his hand. "Take your time, Tommy. No need to rush it." 

Thomas looked down sheepishly and nodded, as he still forgot sometimes that Newt could feel all the pain that he could. Without another word, Minho helped guide Thomas into the hallway. By the time they both reached the doorway, Thomas barely needed Minho's aid. The temporary pain and dizziness had faded, and his head was finally starting the clear. Thomas felt so much lighter, no longer weighed down in the same room for so long.

"Lookin' good," Newt said with a sly smile as Thomas stepped our of the room on his own. He replied with a grin.

Over the days that followed, Newt spent as much time in Thomas' room as possible. He continued to answer any and all of Thomas' questions as they came, and Newt spent a large amount of their time telling Thomas about their pasts, school, and their friends. Although Thomas seemed to have opened up quite a bit since first waking up, Newt could tell that something still wasn't right. Thomas often tried to hide it, but sometimes Newt would catch him with teary and glazed-over eyes, staring off into nothing. 

But the part that Newt failed to see was that he was the exact same way.

Most of the time, Newt was fine. He usually had no trouble evading the predators that constantly stalked his mind. But every so often, his darker thoughts would creep back into his head from where they were prowling. Their strength was too powerful to overcome, and Newt was always forced to succumb to the wraith. It was worst when Thomas had to re-learn something bad, or hear dreadful news for the first time all over again. Newt's guilt would pool inside of him at the sight of Thomas' devastated face, swirling around and clouding up his conscious thoughts.

Sometimes it got so bad that Newt had to leave the room and cover his head with both of his hands, trying to press the thoughts away. But it never worked. He just couldn't escape.

Caught in the middle of things, Minho did his best to keep both Thomas and Newt on the right track. He talked to both of them often, trying to keep their minds off of the present matters.

Unfortunately, the hopeful mood of the past handful of days had vanished when Newt slipped into a dream that tore him apart. In the dream Newt sat in the front seat of his car with Thomas sitting beside him. They stared deeply into each other's eyes, Newt unable to look ahead at the road even when he tried to force his head forward. It was quickly getting dark, but it was too early in the day to be night yet. He drove on a dirt path, weaving through the thick trees the laced the ground.

Newt's stomached dropped as he realized where he was. But it was too late.

Before he could do anything, the car crashed. It spun out of control, and no matter what Newt did, he could no longer steer the wheel. A loud thud sounded to Newt's side as Thomas hit his head and fell unconscious almost immediately. Newt crawled with his injured leg to get help, searing pain coursing through his entire body. And then the world faded to black as the last of his energy was spent.

_How could you do that to me?_

A voice pulled him back to the dream, and this time Newt found himself in Thomas' hospital room. He sat at the side of the bed while Thomas sat up straight against his pillows, staring at Newt with an expressionless face. To Newt's astonishment, Thomas' face was clean and his wounds gone, making him look as healthy as ever. But when Thomas spoke again, the injuries all started to fade back, to the point where it looked even worse than they had after the accident. 

"I'm your _Soulmate!_ " Thomas cried, his eyes narrowing. A huge gash suddenly formed on the side of Thomas' head, blood dripping down over one of his eyes...but he didn't even seem to notice. "Look what you did to me."

Thomas violently ripped the covers off of him to reveal dozens of gashes and bruises covering his entire body. Newt gasped as he stared back at him in shock, whispering "Tommy, I didn't mean t-"

" _You_ crashed the car," Thomas retorted, a fire now blazing in his eyes. His fists were clenched at his sides so tightly that his knuckles turned white. "You almost killed me."

"It was an acciden-"

"It was your fault," Thomas muttered.

"No...no, Tommy please!" Newt begged, wrapping his arms tightly around his torso and falling forward. Consumed with grief, his body began to tremble as he sank into himself on the chair.

"Is this what you wanted?!"

Newt's eyes went wide as he frantically shook his head from side to side in denial, letting out a loud cry as he shrieked, "NO! Tommy, I would neve-"

"IT WAS ALL YOUR DAMN FAULT!" Thomas repeated, yelling now.

Newt said nothing now, choking as he tried to get away. He stumbled out of the chair, only to fall and hit the floor with a loud thud. Newt gasped for breathe and started crawling towards the door as a new pain shot up his bad leg. Tears stung in his eyes and he could barely see, but he blinked them away just in time to turn and see Thomas slip out of the bed with ease. He walked forwards and stood over Newt with a menacing stance, spitting in his face. It was blood.

"All of this was _your_ fucking fault, Newt. And I will _never_ forgive you."

Newt woke up screaming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. Love you guys <3
> 
> (im sorry for the angst :( )


	12. Let's Go Home

Less than a week after Thomas woke up, both his and Newt's conditions had improved enough for them to be officially discharged from the hospital. 

Upon first hearing the news, both Newt and Minho let out a sigh of relief. It felt like a few dozen pounds had finally been lifted off of their shoulders, like something was actually going right for once. Thomas, on the other hand, felt a new spark of fear flicker deep inside him. He'd heard plenty about where he lived from Newt and Minho, but now that they were actually going to head there, he grew worried. He'd done well adapting to living in the hospital, but now he'd have to start all over again and re-adjust to another unfamiliar place. 

But this time it was different. Thomas had never been in this hospital before...but he had been to the apartment. He _lived_ there for crying out loud. But even so, Thomas knew his confused and unfamiliar feelings will stick with him now, no matter where he goes. The thought of that terrified him beyond belief.

But, Thomas would have Newt there with him. And Minho, who lived in the same apartment complex. In his new world filled with nothing but strangers, Thomas quickly latched onto Newt and Minho after he woke, the two of them being the only people who he knew. Thomas often looked over at the picture that Minho had brought him, the one with all of their friends smiling happily. He stared at it for what felt like hours sometimes, searching for the smallest detail that would jog his memory. 

But nothing ever came. And the more he stared, the more unreal the picture became. 

So until the reunion with his friends in the picture, Newt and Minho were all he had. It was a strange feeling. Thomas barely knew the two, having only met them about a week ago when he first woke up. Thomas had already learned much about them, but could tell that there was still something that was off. A sense of unfamiliarity and doubt often clouded the connection between Thomas and the two, especially with Newt. 

Thomas knew that he and Newt were Soulmates. He'd heard the story of their trip, he'd seen his wrist that had all zeros etched on the Timer, and he could feel the tie that he had with Newt despite his lack of memory. But at the same time, he felt like that tie was weakened, and that something was preventing it from growing stronger. 

As much as he didn't want to admit it, Thomas blamed it on his lack of memory. 

He could see how hard Newt was trying to help Thomas, whether it be telling his stories and details from the past, or simply staying by his side. But it was different for Newt. He still had all of his memories, and he could remember everything that he and Thomas had been through together. He could still _feel_ everything he felt for Thomas prior to the accident. 

Newt had something to strive for, something he wanted to regain. But Thomas had nothing. Despite what he'd learned this week, Thomas knew nothing about Newt. Everything they experienced together was wiped clean from his mind without a trace. Of course, Newt and Minho told Thomas plenty of stories from the past, but those memories weren't _his_. It just felt like Thomas was borrowing someone else's mind, and it tore him up inside.

Thomas always tried to reciprocate Newt's affection, but it felt...off. To Thomas it lacked meaning. 

It was empty. 

And no matter how Thomas tried to fill that void, it always seemed to grow larger whenever he started to come close. Sometimes he panicked as he tried and failed at pulling his old emotions from his mind, to be able to display them again. Instead Thomas often found himself trapped inside of a glass box, with Newt trapped on the other side. He just couldn't find a way to break free of the cage. 

The only thing that Thomas was able to hold on to was the look in Newt's eyes whenever their stares met. Despite the quick moments of fear that sometimes flashed across Newt's eyes, Thomas saw resilience. 

Sometimes Newt would give him a smile, and Thomas would feel as though everything was gonna be okay again, even if just for a short moment. It was in Thomas' darkest times, when his mind was overwhelmed with toxic thoughts, that he would picture Newt smiling at him. Wearing that look in his eye that spoke a thousand words. 

In his face, Thomas saw everything. He could see Newt's expression flicker from one emotion to another, from one _memory_ to another, as they spoke. He saw sadness, anger, confusion...but also happiness, joy, admiration, bliss. Through Newt, Thomas felt their history, even with his lack of memory. 

And that gave Thomas something worth fighting for. 

Thomas still wanted to gain his memories for himself, of course, but he wanted them back for Newt more than anything. He wanted to return what was taken from both of them. And whether that be through recalling his old memories, or forming new ones, Thomas swore to himself that he and Newt would rebuild and re-strengthen the connection faltered between them. 

_I'll get back what we lost,_ Thomas would tell himself, _No matter what_.

The following morning after receiving the news of their discharge, Thomas and Newt packed their things to leave while Minho left to pull his car around out front. They both changed into new sets of outfits that Minho had brought them earlier that week, before meeting in the hallway. Thomas wore a small backpack that contained his gifts from Minho, while Newt rolled a small suitcase behind him, careful not to bump his leg with it.

Newt spotted Thomas waiting outside his door and limped over. "Hey, Tommy," He said softly, a nervous smile growing on his face. "You ready?"

Thomas returned an even more nervous glance, but spoke with clarity to cover it up. "Yeah. I think so."

Newt opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by a third voice that echoed down from the other end of the hallway. The two boys turned to see Dr. Paige briskly walking towards them, a reserved yet eager look on her face.

"I wanted to catch you two before you left," Dr. Paige said once she'd gotten close enough. Placing her hands on her hips, she huffed a deep breathe before continuing, "Thomas."

"Yeah?" He said, eyebrows raised.

"Don't forget to take your medicine every morning and evening until the bottle runs out. And be sure not to overwork yourself. You've done very well and your injury is recovering nicely, so I'd like for you to keep it that way," The doctor finished with a wink and a smile, clearly happy to see how much Thomas has improved over the last week. She looked beyond thrilled to see both boys heading home after such a tragedy, despite the journey being long from over.

Thomas returned a smile before hiking his backpack up with a hand on each strap. "I won't. And thank you, Dr. Paige. For everything."

"You're very welcome, Thomas," She replied, with a curt nod. Then she turned to Newt. "The same goes for you, Newt. I know you don't need a crutch anymore, but I still want you off that leg unless it's absolutely necessary."

Newt nodded as he listened to her words. "I'll be careful," he replied once she'd finished.

"Oh! And I almost forgot..." Dr. Paige trailed off, looking down to rummage through all of her pockets frantically. A few moments passed before she whipped out a small piece of scrap paper and handed it to Newt. "If either of you ever need anything, don't hesitate to ask," The doctor said, her voice more gentle now. "It's my personal number."

Newt unfolded the paper to see a messy phone number scratched onto the sheet, under the name "Ava Paige." He looked back up at her with both astonishment and thanks as he slipped the paper into his back pocket. "Thank you."

Newt's eyes met with Dr. Paige's as she spoke, and he couldn't help but notice her expression. It was different from when Thomas thanked her. There was something else she was trying to say. In her eyes, Newt saw relief, pride, and also worry and reassurance. It's the same expression that she wore when she first told Newt that there were other couples that had gone through the same thing as them at one point or another. It was an expression that said _You're not alone_.

With another small nod, Newt turned and walked towards the end of the hall, Thomas tailing close behind him. They took the elevator because of Newt's leg, and entered the waiting room area where Newt left to fill out any remaining paperwork.

Thomas drifted off to one of the chairs closest to the clear sliding doors, which were lined with large glass windows that shimmered in the sun. The light from outside danced across the room with grace as it swayed from side to side. Leaning forward slightly, Thomas could see it was from one of the tall trees that stood just outside the door. Despite having a window in his room, Thomas had felt so closed off from the outside during his stay.

He had yet to go outside since he'd first woken up after the accident.

As if in a trance, Thomas stood unmoving, his eyes glued to blue sky outside that was filled with soft white clouds. He tried to calm down the battle that was occurring within him. In this moment, he desired most to step outside, breathe in the air, take in the sun, and drive home with Minho and Newt. Yet, lurking just behind these thoughts were Thomas' fears and worries about leaving. Everything outside the doors in front of him would be new territory for Thomas, and he was terrified.

Even with his friends at his side, Thomas could feel the nervousness bubbling up inside of him, threatening to surface. Minutes passed before Newt finally joined Thomas at his side, his eyes focused out the same window he stood at.

Newt reached up and gave Thomas a firm squeeze on the shoulder with his hand before rubbing a few quick soothing circles on his upper back. He'd been very careful with Thomas since he'd woken up, taking extra care not to be too touchy with him. He understood what Thomas was probably going through, and the last thing he wanted was to drive Thomas away, despite them already being Soulmates. If Thomas ever showed any sign of being uncomfortable with something Newt was doing, he'd immediately stop and apologize.

And when Thomas didn't shy away from his touch, Newt kept his hand firmly on his back. He turned his head to face Thomas, a worried expression flashing across his face. "Are you nervous?" He asked quietly.

Thomas stared outside a few more moments before his head fell downwards and he let out a sigh. He brought his arms in front of him and folded them tightly. When he couldn't form any words, Thomas simply nodded.

Newt gave him a sad smile, Dr. Paige's words from before echoing through his mind as he spoke, "I am, too."

Thomas looked up at him with those words, a frown on his face. Newt could see the fear in his eyes, the confusion on his face. He was still so lost, despite the progress they'd made.

Newt stared at Thomas for a few more moments, a new plan forming in his mind. "I'll tell you what," He said, the worry on his face covered with a more eager look. "I know this isn't going to be easy, but I want you to remember that you aren't in this alone. You have me, and Minho, and all of our other friends back at university. We want to help you in any way we can, so please don't be afraid to ask us anything. We're here for you."

Thomas let out a small laugh, the corners of his mouth curving up into a smile. He could see the passion in Newt's eyes, and happiness swelled inside him at the sight. It gave him hope that maybe, one day soon, everything will be back to the way it was again. That he'd...remember.

With a radiant grin Newt held out his hand, offering it to Thomas. The boy stared down at it, as if debating something difficult, before slowly reaching over and taking Newt's hand. Their eyes met, and they shared a look of both determination and excitement.

Together, they turned and walked out of the doors of the hospital, leaving behind the place and the people that had saved both of their lives. At the end of the sidewalk, Newt spotted Minho driving towards them from the parking lot. He waved to catch his attention as he turned back to Thomas again. Newt lifted their still intertwined hands and placed a soft yet quick kiss on the back of Thomas' hand.

"Let's go home, love."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, busy weekend. Sorry for the late update. And just to let you guys know this weekend will also be terribly busy so it's possible that the next update might be a little late as well. But thanks for your patience, I appreciate it!!! Hopefully this chapter will make up for last week's angst....
> 
> 4/15 update: I know, I'm sorry...it's seriously the worst not being able to post when I said I probably could. It's just that the semester is coming to an end and I am extremely swamped with work, projects, studying, and the overwhelming anxiety of having to plan out my future (which I can no longer avoid at this point)...and obviously school comes first. This semester has been the worst of my entire life honestly and I'm just counting down the days until I can leave it behind me. I just ask that you all bear with me for a few more weeks until school is done...Sorry again, but thanks for all the love you guys. That's what's getting me through these last few weeks, and what keeps me motivated to write for you all <3


	13. You Don't Know That

As the pair stepped outside, Thomas was met with a strong wave of warmth as the radiance of the sun hit his face and arms. He smiled softly as the cool breeze swirled through the air and rustled the leaves on the trees above. The pavement below was wet, shining brilliantly in the sunlight. It had just rained, and the scent of the water on the grass drifted over to the pair. Thomas inhaled deeply, the smell filling his nose. His smile grew as he breathed back out, relieved to smell something other than the inside of a hospital. 

Once he and Newt reached the end of the sidewalk, they stopped and watched as Minho pulled his car right up to them. Minho pressed a button and his window rolled down, only to reveal his eager expression. "You ready to go, shanks?" He asked with a smirk, his excitement growing. With ease, Minho stepped out of the car and took Thomas' and Newt's bags and tossed them in the trunk. 

Newt joined Minho in the front of the car while Thomas opened the back door and sat behind Minho. Once they all buckled their seatbelts, Minho pulled forward and turned out of the parking lot. He rolled down the remaining windows and a sudden rush of air came rushing in from outside. 

Thomas was drawn towards his window. He placed his arm so that it rested half out the car before resting his head on top of it. And as Minho picked up in speed, the wind on his face felt even better. "This feels good," He sighed, closing his eyes. 

Newt turned back towards Thomas with a smile. "Didn't realize how stuffed up it got in there till we got out, yeah?" 

Without raising his head, Thomas replied with a few quick nods. He could feel his entire body relax in the sun, and he relished every second of being out of his hospital room. 

"Hope you're comfy," Minho said from the driver's seat. Thomas could see his face in the mirror on the side of the car. "We're gonna be in here for a while."

The ride home was a good eight hours by car. The first few hours passed pretty quickly, most of which consisting of Minho's playlist of some of his favorite music. Thomas listened to all of the songs intently, while Newt seemed to be more preoccupied with the open book in his lap. The book was Minho's, but Thomas didn't see what the title was. Newt had found it in Minho's glove department an hour into the drive and immediately dove right in. 

Newt really loved to read, he always had. And after dealing with the lack of books that the hospital had available, Newt's longing to read something...anything...quickly overtook him. He barely even looked at the cover before opening to chapter one. 

Thomas couldn't help but glance over ever few minutes, amazed at how unaffected Newt appeared to be as he read, despite the loud music blasting from the speakers next to him. The contrast between Newt's calm demeanor and Minho's exaggerated dancing was quite amusing.

The trio stopped for some food when they were halfway through the trip, and they were back on the road in less than an hour. For Thomas, the drive was still as relaxing as it was for him at the start. For almost the entire ride, Thomas stared out the window, his eyes glued to the ever-changing landscapes that stretched out before him. And even though their dinner consisted of cheap fast food, it was still a major step up from Thomas and Newt's hospital food. 

As they drove on, the sky slowly began to darken. Thomas could no longer ignore the strange feeling that was building inside of him for the last hour or so. It didn't take him long to realize what it was. 

The reality of the situation was finally starting to sink in. Thomas was going _home_. 

Of course he'd known where they were heading from the start, but...it never really felt real until Minho announced they were only two hours away. The landscapes they drove through had changed dramatically. The rolling hills and larger trees they'd seen early on in the drive had slowly been replaced by flatter, open plains of greens and yellows. Thomas knew they had to be getting close. 

But that was just it. 

No matter how far they drove, or how much the world seemed to change around him, Thomas had no recollection of the scenes before him. The fear that lingered inside of him grew stronger to become a mix of confusion and helplessness as Thomas tried desperately to remember _something_. Even the slightest sensation of familiarity would ease the tension, but he felt nothing. 

Deep down, Thomas had let a small hope grow. A hope that after he returned home, he'd wander through it and everything would come back to him instantly. But as the distance of the remaining ride shortened and the emptiness inside him didn't fade, his spirits began to drift away. 

That's when Thomas felt it coming back. 

The dark thoughts. Thoughts of him, sitting in his apartment with Newt, with no familiarity and no memory. Thomas squeezed his eyes shut as he felt his panic grow inside him. He pushed the images away with all of his might, trying desperately to fight for his last remaining bits of hope. But they wouldn't leave. 

Some time passed before Thomas drifted off to sleep, finding it to be the only escape from his fear of returning to the unfamiliar place he would soon call home. It was completely dark now, with only about an hour left of the drive. Despite his stress, Thomas was able to fit in an undisturbed nap. But when he woke, he didn't move from where he laid. 

The sound of Minho and Newt's hushed voices kept Thomas in place. They'd been mostly quiet for the second half of the car ride, with Minho focusing on the road and Newt buried in his book. Newt offered to drive a multiple times throughout the trip, but Minho refused. After realizing that Minho wasn't planning on letting him drive, Newt had drifted off to sleep as well.

"What's going on with you?" Thomas heard Minho ask in a hushed voice. His tone made Thomas even more scared to move. Despite the guilty feeling about eavesdropping, he thought it'd be better to stay still. He made sure to keep his breathing slow and even, making it seem like he was asleep. 

"What?" Newt asked in a surprised voice. "What do you mean?" 

"Quiet, Newt," Minho shushed him before continuing, "Tell me what's wrong." 

"Wrong with what, Min?" Newt asked, still confused. But something was off in his voice. His tone didn't sound genuine. 

"This!" Minho said. Thomas open his eyes for a quick moment before snapping them shut again. He caught a glimpse of Minho gesturing to Newt from top to bottom. "Ever since you woke up you've been staring at him like he's a lost puppy or some klunk." 

Thomas could tell by Newt's tone that he was frowning. "I wasn't staring, Min..."

"Don't even try that with me, Newt. I'm right here, I can _see_ you," Minho retorted, still trying to keep his voice quiet. A few seconds of silence passed before Newt finally answered.

"Okay, so..." Newt said in a defeated voice. "...what's your point?"

"I can clearly see something's bothering you, Newt," Minho answered, his voice calmer than it was before. There was more concern now. "You can tell me what's wrong."

Newt groaned in annoyance and Thomas heard Minho nudge him, probably to keep him quiet. "It's nothing."

"Please, Newt," Minho said, the patience in his voice fading more with every word that left his mouth.

Thomas heard Newt sigh, along with the sound of him shifting in his seat. He could feel the boy's eyes on him. Newt stared for what felt like an eternity before Thomas heard Newt shifting again, probably to face back towards Minho. When Newt spoke his voice was so quiet that Thomas had to strain his ears to hear it.

"It's my fault," Newt muttered under his breathe.

Minho paused before answering. "What's your fault?"

Newt sniffed. "All of this. The crash, my leg..." He paused again, and Thomas swore that he could hear soft crying. "...Tommy."

With almost no warning, Minho pulled off to the side of the road, bringing the car to a complete stop. The car shook slightly as it rolled on the dirt beside the road. Minho had barely shifted the car into park before he spoke. Thomas peeked his eyes open again to see the horrified look on Minho's face that was illuminated by the lights coming from the dashboard.

"How could you say something like that?" Minho whispered, pure sadness and shock filling his voice.

"Because it's the truth, Minho," Newt said firmly, another small cry escaping his lips. He tried to stifle it with his hands to stay quiet.

"But why would it be your fau-"

"Because _I_ was driving the car, Minho. _I_ was the one who turned onto that path in the first place," Newt snapped, his breathes growing louder and more out of control. "If it wasn't for me, we wouldn't be in this bloody mess..."

Minho went quiet for a long time before he answered. "Newt, you couldn't have known. _Nobody_ could've known what was going to happen. How could you possibly blame yourself for something that you no control over?"

"But I could've ju-"

"No, you don't know that, Newt," Minho interrupted, fury growing in his voice. "How do you know that you wouldn't have crashed going a different way? What if it would've been worse going the way you planned to go?"

"That's ridiculous, Minho. We wouldn't have crashed if w-"

"You don't know what."

"And _you_ do?" Newt asked harshly. Thomas saw through squinted eyes that Newt flinched at the volume of his voice, and quickly glanced back to Thomas to make sure he hadn't woken up.

"No," Minho said, his voice quieter now. "I don't."

Newt sighed again. "So what're you saying?"

"All I'm saying is that we don't know. There's no way to tell whether it'd had been better or worse if you'd gone a different way. And because of that you can't possibly blame yourself for what happened. I know you were the one driving the car but that doesn't mean that you could've changed what was going to happen." Minho said, determination in his voice.

Newt remained quiet, probably unable to conjure up a response. After being met with silence, Minho continued, "But now you _do_ have a choice, and that's to either give up on ever recovering or keep fighting for what you want. Do you understand me, Newt?"

More silence followed. It took Newt an entire minute before he was able to find any words to say. "Yeah."

"Yeah, what?" Minho asked, pushing farther. "Say the words."

"I understand," Newt responded in a voice just above a whisper. Thomas could almost feel the pain laced those words.

"Good that," Minho said, his voice softer now.

"M'sorry, Min," Newt whispered. By the muffled sound, Thomas guessed that his face was buried in his hands.

Minho paused, and Thomas heard him pat Newt a few times before speaking. "Just remember that it wasn't your fault, Newt. None of it."

Newt didn't respond.

"Thank you for telling me, Newt," Minho continued as he shifted the car back into drive and pulled back onto the road.

"Mhm," Newt hummed quietly into his hands.

In all that time Thomas never moved. Instead he sat quietly, too afraid to reveal that he was awake. He felt a pang of sadness as Newt's words repeated in his head again and again. He didn't know that Newt felt so guilty about what happened to them. But once the conversation had died down, Thomas found himself drifting off to sleep again, his mind no longer fighting to stay awake. With a tired sigh, Thomas shifted in his seat and buried his head into his arm that rested on the now closed window.

Thomas slept the rest of the way back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *peeks out from the void I've been hiding in for the last year* 
> 
> Umm, hi. I'm back. 
> 
> Long story short, school got hard, my anxiety/depression got bad, I was in a dark place for a bit. But now I'm BACK and I'm actually gonna finish this story for real this time. Thanks for sticking around ;)
> 
> And a special shout-out to a certain few who encouraged me to pick this story up....you know who you are. And as always, happy reading, lovelies <3


	14. I'm Right Here

"Tommy." 

At the lack of response from the backseat, Newt turned his head around to find Thomas still fast asleep.

"Tommy? Wake up."

Thomas shifted where he lay, burying his face deeper into his arm subconsciously with a heavy sigh. 

"Tommy!" Newt almost had to shout. He reached back and tapped Thomas on the knee, which sent him shooting straight up with his eyes darting back and forth wildly. "Come on, wake up ya shank!" 

"What?" Thomas groaned, reaching up to rub both of his eyes with his hands as he remembered where he was. Glancing out the window, Thomas could see the car pulling into a decent-sized parking lot that was light with tall orange lamps. As if on cue, the overhead lights inside the car switched on as Minho pulled to a stop in the nearest parking space. Thomas raised a hand to block the light as his eyes adjusted, bringing his other hand up to shield his mouth as he yawned. 

Minho huffed out a breathe and fell back against his seat, his head now facing the roof of the car. "Alright," He said, almost no energy left in his voice, "We made it."

 _We made it_. At the sound of those words, Thomas quickly moved to look out windshield. His eyes followed the beams from the car to the building that stood in front of them. It was tall, with five or six floors total. The outside was painted a light tan, with a dark brown roof and windowpanes. Most of the lights inside the rooms were turned off, but there were a few that still glowed a warm golden color through the closed drapes. There weren't many more details that Thomas could make out due to the darkness outside, but he could tell that there were multiple identical buildings all arranged in a square surrounding the lot. 

The place looked really nice, but...still not familiar in any way. 

As Thomas stared on, he could feel another small bit of his hope break away. He didn't know why he kept letting his spirits build up, but now he was letting them all crash down again. Too deep in thought, Thomas didn't even notice the very apparent frown that began to form on his face. 

"Hey, Thomas," A voice said, pulling Thomas hesitantly back to reality. "You comin', bud?" 

Thomas looked up to see it Minho, already out of the car. He slammed his door shut immediately after his words, not giving Thomas a chance to respond. Then, Thomas heard the trunk open behind him, and he turned just in time to see Minho pulling out both bags and shutting the door. 

With a shaky hand, Thomas reached for his door handle and pushed it open. Slowly, he maneuvered himself out of the car, being extra careful not to hit his head on anything. Despite the progress his wounds had made at the hospital, there was still a lot of healing they needed before he'd be fully recovered. Or, at least, that's what Dr. Paige had told him. 

Thomas didn't move from where he stood, staring at the building that sat before him. The building that he knew he should've recognized in a heartbeat. The building that he used to call home. But now that he stared at it, he felt nothing. To Thomas, it just looked like another old building. No recognition, no recollection...no memories. 

Thomas' heart hurt.

He didn't even notice that hand that had grabbed his own until he felt a tight squeeze. At the sudden sensation, Thomas looked up only to have his eyes meet with Newt's. The two stared at each other for a long while, their faces dim and hard to make out in the low light. Thomas felt Newt's thumb start tracing slow circles on his own hand. 

Thomas' first instinct was to pull away, but he kept his hand there and took a deep breathe. Then it became more soothing. 

"Are you ready, Tommy?" Newt asked, not taking his eyes off of Thomas'. He gave Thomas' hand another gentle and grounding squeeze. 

Taking a deep and long breathe, Thomas nodded hesitantly. Newt could see the nervousness in Thomas' face, as well as feel the tension in his hand. Masking his own worry with a calm demeanor, Newt looked Thomas in the eye and took a slow, deep breathe. Thomas mimicked him, slowing his breathing to match Newt's.

"We're home now," Newt said, a small smile growing on his face. "We made it. It's gonna be alright."

Thomas replayed that phrase over and over again in his mind as they slowly began to step towards the closest building. Despite Thomas' lack of belief in those words, he still found comfort in them, and comfort in knowing that Newt was there for him. 

After a few more steps, Thomas held himself with a bit more confidence as he followed Newt. He tried his best to push his fears and dark thoughts away, instead choosing to focus on Newt and Minho. The pair reached the building and Newt opened the door with a card he pulled from his pocket. Slowly, he pushed opened the door and guided Thomas inside, with Minho trailing right behind them with their bags. They walked down the hall to the elevator and rode it to the fourth floor. 

Then came more hallways, twists, and turns before they finally stopped in front of a door with the numbers "403" printed on the front. Newt pulled out a pair of keys this time, inserting it into the door and twisting it out as the door swung open. With a quick hand, Newt reached across Thomas and flicked on the switch that was just inside the door, flooding the hallway with light. 

When Thomas didn't move, Minho stepped past him and placed the bags on the floor with a grunt. Brushing off his hands, he turned back to Thomas and Newt with a calm but tired look on his face. Thomas also thought he could make out some relief in his eyes as well. 

Minho smiled as he pulled both Newt and Thomas into a tight embrace, causing all three of them to burst out into laughs. He paused before pulling back, taking just one more moment to convince himself that his friends were really here and that they were going to be okay. Leaning back with a sigh, Minho pat his two friends on the shoulders. "I just want you two to know how happy I am to see you guys home." 

Newt returned a small smile. "Thanks, Min. Really, you've done so much for us. I can't thank you enough." 

"No need, Newt. That's what friends are for, man," Minho laughed as he stepped out the doorway and into the hall. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his car keys, twirling them around one of his fingers. "I need to move my car. But don't forget that I'm just a building over. Goodnight, guys." 

The three all said their quick goodbyes before Minho turned and walked back from the direction they'd come from. Once he rounded the corner, Thomas turned back to Newt to find him staring at him expectantly. He blinked a few times, reminding himself where he was. That he was...home. 

"Come on, then," Newt laughed upon seeing Thomas' hesitation, pulling Thomas into the apartment and closing the door behind them. He let go of Thomas' hand for a moment to flip on some more lights before grabbing it again. Newt turned to Thomas with a calm look on his face and softly said, "Home, sweet home."

Thomas took a step back to take everything in, his eyes wide and full of curiosity. He didn't even notice that his mouth fell open as he studied the hallway leading in to the main room. He slowly stepped forward, his eyes darting from object to object as he tried to study every detail at once. What he didn't realize, however, was that he was really just searching for something that he could remember. Anything that would trigger an old memory or sense of familiarity.

Still nothing. Thomas bit his lip, trying to subdue the panic growing inside him.

In silence, Thomas let his surroundings sink in. The walls were all painted with deep, warm colors. Most of which included dark browns, reds, and tans. The furniture was all a very deep maroon with golden cushions that glistened in the light from the hallway. In the main room was a small kitchenette with a stainless steel refrigerator, microwave, oven, sink, and dishwasher. Beyond the patterned counter-top sat a longer wooden table with six chairs sitting around it. In the center sat a small pot with flowers, now shriveled and dead from lack of water. 

The next room consisted of a couch and a recliner that sat behind a coffee table, which all faced a large cabinet containing a decent-sized television. And just like the previous room, multiple plants, now all dead, sat in pots scattered around the room.

Thomas continued on to the next room without a word, Newt trailing nervously behind him. Next, they came up on a small hallway with three open doors. On the right, there was a small room with two desks full of papers and work. Thomas couldn't help but give a small smile at the bookshelf that sat directly next to what he presumed to be Newt's desk, as it was almost overflowing with books on every single shelf. On his desk sat piles of different-sized canvases along with groups of paints and paintbrushes stuffed into boxes.

Thomas was about to turn and move on to the next room when he spotted the wall above what he could only assume was his side of the room. He walked over, squinting his eyes at the large collection of pictures and sketches taped to his wall. As he stared, he realized what they were. Spread out all over the wall sat sketches of buildings. Houses. Towers. Structures. Thomas sucked in a breathe as his eyes widened at the overwhelming sight. "These...they're mine, aren't they?"

"Yeah." Newt took a step forward so they were side by side. He'd remained quiet since stepping inside their apartment, afraid to say anything that might make Thomas upset about his memory-loss. He knew that this had to be a lot for Thomas to take in all at once. "Every single one."

Thomas watched as Newt stared at the drawings as if in a trance. He didn't speak though, for he was too absorbed with watching Newt to pay attention to anything else. He could tell Newt was looking for something specific, but he didn't know what it could be. He followed Newt's glance for a while, until Newt finally stopped and turned back towards Thomas.

"Ah! There," He said, raising his hand to point at a sketch about two feet above them. Newt grinned at the sketch as he spoke, "That one's always been my favorite."

With a curious look, Thomas followed Newt's gesture until his eyes landed on a drawing made in pen. In the picture was a design for a beautiful house, with tall glass windows and a large front porch. The drawing even included trees and bushes that lined the sides and front of the house, tying it all together. It was beautiful. "Wow," Thomas said softly, his eyes still glued to the sketch, "I drew that?"

"Sure did, Tommy," Newt said as he smiled back at Thomas. He paused, thinking about something, before he continued. "The day you drew that you told me that this was gonna be our house. That when we finish school and move out of here we're gonna build it together."

Thomas felt his heart flutter in excitement at the thought as he tried to visualize the house completely built with them standing in front of it. The sketch, along with all the others, were incredible. But at the same time, Thomas began to realize that he didn't even know if he could do that anymore. For all he knew, that gift could be gone...possibly even forever.

_You don't remember how to do that. You can't do it anymore._

With a quick shake of his head to force those thoughts away, Thomas turned back to Newt with a smile of his own. "Sounds good to me," He said, his smile somewhat fading as he turned and walked out of the room. He didn't know how much longer he could spend in there before he'd completely succumb to his fear and worry.

The center door in the hallway led to a bathroom with two sinks. Thomas didn't walk in, and instead just strolled by and took in what he could from the hallway. He stopped in front of the last room, which Thomas knew had to be the bedroom. With the slightest hesitation, he stepped inside. He could sense Newt walking right behind him until they both stopped at the foot of the bed.

Thomas studied the final room slowly, quickly noticing the dark brown walls accompanied by the brilliant forest green comforter that sat on top of the bed. There was a small nightstand on each side the bed, holding small light blue lamps. Across the bed sat a larger dresser next to a closet, with a door that let out to what looked like a small balcony on the far side of the room. With a gentle hand, Thomas ran his hand across the smooth wood of the dresser, removing dust from the surface as he did. But then, his hand abruptly stopped when he spotted something sitting at the far end of the dresser.

Thomas took a nervous step forward. He quickly honed in on the small wooden frame, bending over so that he was eye-level with the image that sat beneath a thin layer of glass. But as Thomas began to realize what it was, he could feel yet another dagger pierce through his heart.

It was a picture of him and Newt. But what hurt Thomas most was that they both looked so...happy. They were _in love_.

The picture had captured them from the waist up, both wearing heavy snow coats while wrapped tightly in each other's embrace. It appeared to be snowing at the time, and neither of them had been looking at the camera. Thomas saw that he'd been far too preoccupied with trying to catch a snowflake on his tongue, while Newt laughed at him as he did.

Thomas could feeling his hand beginning to tremble as he reached forward and grasped the frame tightly in his hand. He brought it even closer to his face, his eyes burning at the sight of their joy. He brushed the dust off the glass, letting it fall on top of the dresser. That didn't make the picture clearer, though, due to the tears that began to form in Thomas' eyes.

"Tommy?" Newt said upon noticing the sudden change in Thomas' expression. But Thomas couldn't hear him.

_You'll never be this happy again if you don't get your memories back._

In panic, Thomas dropped the picture back onto the dresser and brought both hands to the side of his head. The frame clattered down loudly as Thomas panted and squeezed his eyes shut. He was fine in the hospital, compared to this. Sure, he had a few bad days when he'd heard some bad news, or felt nervous about meeting his old friends again...but now that Thomas was _here_ , it was a completely different world.

Newt had told Thomas all about their lives, their relationship, and their home. But hearing it wasn't the same as experiencing it. It wasn't the same as walking through your own home and having it feel completely foreign to you. It wasn't the same having people tell you about your past. It wasn't the same as it was in the hospital.

It was worse. It was so much worse because now, Thomas was experiencing it all himself. He saw for the first time what he felt for Newt in that picture before the accident, despite having no memory of such feelings. And it was terrifying.

Thomas was so far gone that he didn't even notice when Newt had pried Thomas' hands away from his head and rested his own hands firmly on Thomas' shoulders. "Thomas," He said urgently, panic in his eyes. "Hey, hey. Calm down, it's alright."

Thomas stared back at him with wild eyes as he climbed out of the dark abyss in his mind. His breathes were ragged. "Newt?"

Newt stared into Thomas' eyes for an answer. He could see so many emotions running through his Soulmate's mind all at once, and there were far too many. To see such a look of hurt and loss on Thomas' face killed Newt, and it was even worse knowing that there wasn't anything he could do to make it disappear. Thomas looked so frantic, so fearful. Frustrated at the fact he couldn't remember the picture, longing for just a single glimpse of an old memory, terrified that those memories may never return.

Newt could see all of it, and he did the only thing he could think of doing to help. "I know, Tommy," He said in firm voice as he reached forward and pulled Thomas into a tight hug. It was their first real embrace since the accident. "I know."

Thomas froze and tensed for a moment, but he quickly relaxed under Newt's calming touch and buried his face into Newt's neck. Newt didn't say anything when he felt Thomas' entire body begin to tremble as hot tears dripped onto his shoulder. Instead, he began to rub circles on Thomas' back in hopes of calming him down.

After a short while, Thomas gave up at holding in his cries. The weight he'd been trying to carry since they left the hospital had reached its limit, and now it was all starting to tumble down before him. He let the tears fall down his face as his he tightened his arms around Newt even more, still trying desperately to rid his mind of his haunting and toxic thoughts. At the sounds of Thomas' cries, Newt could feel tears begin to trail down his own face. He didn't move to wipe them away.

"Shhhh," Newt tried to shush Thomas when he couldn't calm down, patiently holding him and planting the occasional kiss on the side of his head. "I'm here, Tommy," He would whisper repeatedly into Thomas' ear, "Shhhh...I'm right here."

Neither of them moved for almost an hour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOWOWOOWOWOWOW the feedback and the support of this fic's return has been INCREDIBLE and i'm so thankful for all of y'all <3 
> 
> also i just wanted to let everyone know that this fic probably won't have a regular update schedule from now on! i tried to do that last time and that's what got me overstressed and rushed until i fell behind. so i'll try my best to update every week or two, but if i start to get busy updates may be postponed a little longer <3
> 
> happy reading, lovelies!!!


	15. Chin Up

After some time, he wasn't sure how long, Thomas finally calmed himself down enough to pry away the thoughts that tormented his mind. While much remained unclear, there was one thing he knew for sure after tonight: That he couldn't have done it without Newt there, holding him and whispering calm comforts in his ear. The way the pair embraced so comfortably and for so long made Thomas realize how much he depended on Newt to help calm and steady him. 

In this new, unfamiliar world of chaos and uncertainty, at least Thomas had found one person he could depend on. And within this extensively unexplored world, Thomas cared more about Newt that anything else. 

As the two pulled apart, their eyes now locked, the sight of tears streaking down Newt's face struck Thomas almost immediately. A pang of remorse suddenly rushed through him as he shivered at the expression of helplessness visible on Newt's face. Thomas kicked himself for letting his own struggles effect Newt like they have. Newt had such a rooted quality of kindness that the thought of Newt alone experiencing such a feeling made him sick to his stomach. All this did was make it worse for Newt, and the last thing Thomas wanted to do was hurt him any more than he already had. 

"I'm sorry," Thomas stuttered an apology, his body growing tense as his own words struck him like daggers in the heart. He could feel his throat going dry, his voice starting to crack as he continued, "I'm sorry, I just...I didn't mean t-"

Newt sighed as he closed his eyes for the briefest moment, an exhausted yet soothing smile growing on his lips as he did. "Tommy, please don't ever apologize for something like that."

Thomas stared at him in shock, shaking his head from side to side. "But I-"

"It's not your fault," Newt said sternly despite the comforting expression on his face. "I know you didn't mean for this to happen, any of it." 

Thomas remained silent. At the sight of genuine concern in Newt's eyes, he almost started crying again. He wanted to run out of the room and lock himself on the balcony, anything to escape guilt that continued to pool inside him at the image of Newt suffering.

"But I want you to know that I'm happy you opened up to me. I _want_ to help you, Tommy. More than anything. And I can only do that if you tell me what you're feeling," Newt paused to give Thomas another reassuring smile. "So please tell me when there's something wrong, or something you don't understand. Don't bottle it up inside. I'll always give you help when I'm able, and you should never be ashamed of asking for it." 

Thomas stared back at Newt, his eyes remaining expressionless as he sifted through the many questions that threatened to fill his present mind to the brim. It wasn't difficult for Newt to spot his apprehension.

"Tommy," Newt patiently repeated, studying Thomas' facial reaction to the question very carefully. "Do you understand me?" 

With a nod, Thomas finally responded. "Yeah." 

Newt smiled and reached over to give Thomas' hand a squeeze, letting go after a short while. He looked back at the doorway suddenly, as if he was pondering something, before turning back to face Thomas. "Normally we both sleep here," Newt gave a nod of his head towards the bed that sat beside them as he continued, "But the couch out in the other room also turns into a bed if you want some space to yourself. I don't want to pressure you into anything you're not comfortable with."

Taking a moment to consider both options, Thomas looked back and forth between the bed and the doorway behind them. He could feel the relief as it spread throughout his body at Newt's comment about the couch. Thomas hadn't said anything earlier, but he was actually really nervous about the idea of sleeping in the same bed as Newt. He wasn't sure if it was just his lack of memory, or his fear of slipping into panic again that drove him away from the idea. Either way, he drew comfort from Newt's openness and patience. 

"I think I just...I need some time to myself," Thomas muttered, glancing down at his suddenly very-interesting pair of shoes he was wearing. His nerves were far too great to be able to look Newt in the eyes as he spoke.

Leaning forward and resting his hands on his slightly-bent knees, Newt was able to see Thomas' face again. He made sure to wear a calm expression, not wishing to upset Thomas again by making the wrong move. The small smile on his face grew larger now as he reached up under Thomas' chin and lifted Thomas' head so they were eye-level. 

"Hey...Chin up, Tommy. That's totally fine. Why don't you go wash off and I'll get the couch all set up for you?" Newt said in a voice as soft as a whisper. Thomas nodded in agreement and Newt watched him as he turned and headed towards the bathroom next door. And then he remembered that Thomas probably wouldn't remember where anything was. "Soap is already in the shower, and towels are in the cupboard across from the sink!"

Newt could hear a quick and faint "thank you" come from the bathroom just before the door shut.

"Oh, and Tommy," Newt said a little louder, "mind the stitches in your head, Dr. Paige said to be careful when washing there!"

Newt waited, not moving from where he was, until he heard an "okay" from Thomas and the sound of the shower turning on. Turning slowly, he walked towards the dresser where Thomas had just stood. With careful hands, he scooped up the frame that Thomas had dropped and held it up to the light so he could see it. 

Newt couldn't help but smile at the sight of the two of them so happy.

The saddening images of Thomas breaking down in front of him invaded his mind as he seemed to study every detail of the picture. Newt forced his eyes shut, unable to look at the photograph any longer without noticing the familiar feeling of guilt rise up from inside him. His talk with Minho in the car helped, but no matter how many times Newt repeated Minho's words in his head, it wouldn't go away. Instead, he felt small pieces of the hope he had left begin to chip off and vanish.

Newt knew Minho was trying to help, but he wasn't _there_ at the accident. He didn't see what happened. Newt was behind the wheel. Newt was the one who drove down the shrouded path. Newt was the one who crashed the car.

It was still his fault, no matter what anyone said to him.

With a sigh, Newt opened his eyes and glanced at the picture once more. Gently, as if not to disturb the other frames sitting along the top, he placed it back onto the dresser. Both of his hands lingered along the edges of the frame, his mind distracted as the guilt inside of him morphed into something else. Newt still felt that it was his fault and he couldn't convince himself otherwise, but that didn't mean he needed to constantly torture himself about it. Just minutes ago, Newt was holding Thomas is his arms, telling him repeatedly that he shouldn't apologize or blame himself for what happened...yet Newt failed to do the same with himself.

_You need to try harder,_ Newt said to himself, attempting to manipulate his guilt and turn it into drive. _For Thomas. He needs you._

There was not point in moping around and feeling sorry for themselves when Newt could be working to make things better again. He had to remind himself of the two words that he repeated in his head over and over the day he saw Thomas in the hospital for the first time.

Not dead.

Neither of them were dead, and in the end that's what really mattered. Like Minho had said to him many times since the hospital, that was far more important than any injury either of them had sustained.

_Time will heal both of you,_ Dr. Paige told him earlier that morning before they left. Exhaling a groan of defeat, Newt tried to accept that both of those were in fact true. 

Newt just had to understand that Thomas wasn't the only one who needed healing.

Shaking his head, Newt turned and limped out of the room feeling fatigued, yet lighter. He made his way over to couch, flipping the cushions off and tossing them to the floor. Carefully, he pulled out the mattress and unfolded it. Newt retrieved sheets from the nearby closet, which also contained their stacked washer and drier, and laid them out across the bed. Once finished, he took a step back and crossed his arms across his chest, admiring his handiwork.

Rushing to be done before Thomas, Newt went back to the bedroom for a few minutes to change his clothes into something more comfortable, and laid out some clothes for Thomas as well. He could hear that Thomas was still showering, so he wandered over to the kitchen. With a nervous look of disgust on his face, Newt opened the door to the refrigerator and immediately regretted it.

Most of the perishable food, including the large collection of fruits and vegetables, had gone completely bad. Newt slammed the door shut, hand over his nose, as he ran over to a cupboard and pulled out a garbage bag. Holding his breathe, he reopened the door and quickly threw everything that was expired into the bag and tied it off.

Luckily, the bag worked very well and was able to block out most of the smell. Newt placed the bag in the empty trash can under the sink and wrote a note on that said just said "TRASH" and placed it on the counter as a reminder. He then soon found himself wandering over towards the pantry, in search of something he could have before bed. Newt quickly spotted a box of teabags, and snatched one out. He knew Thomas wasn't as big of a fan of tea, so he grabbed him a small bag of hot chocolate mix instead. Newt could hear the shower shutting off just as he started to prepare the water for both.

Another ten minutes passed before Thomas emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. Newt looked up at him, trying not to stare at the remaining bruises strewn across the side of his torso. "I laid some clothes out for you in the bedroom," He said, pouring their drinks into some mugs.

"Uh, thanks," Thomas said as he ducked into the bedroom and shut the door. He came back out just a few minutes later, tossing the towel back into the bathroom and making his way over to Newt.

"Did the shower help?" Newt asked in a warm voice as he placed the extra dishes in the sink.

Thomas nodded and gave Newt a shy smile in return. He folded his arms and leaned forward so that they were resting on the counter. "Yeah. I think so."

Newt returned a smile as he slid one of the mugs over to Thomas. Steam rose from the top and spilled over the edges. "It's your favorite," Newt said, grabbing his own mug and taking a small sip.

Thomas leaned down and smelled it, a bigger smile growing on his face. "Smells good," he said happily, lifting the mug to take a drink. He glanced back up at Newt with a grateful look. "Thanks, Newt."

"You're welcome," Newt with another soft smile, taking another drink. "Thought you'd like something warm before bed."

Thomas nodded thankfully, his eyes drifting across the kitchen. He looked around, studying the details of the room until his eyes landed on the flower pot he'd spotted earlier. Inside of it sat a patch of dead weeds and flowers, all shriveled and hanging over the side of the bowl.

"Shame about all the plants," Thomas said, nodding his head towards the pot on the table.

Newt followed his gaze, wearing a look that made it obvious he was a little bummed. "Yeah," He said, "They were doing really well before we left."

Thomas frowned. "Did you-" He stopped himself and quickly changed his wording, "Did we buy them?"

Newt shook his head proudly, "Nope. We grew every single one ourselves. They're all indoor plants so they don't need direct sunlight, which we thought was a good choice for the apartment."

Thomas turned back to look at the plant one last time. He sighed internally at the additional lost memory, but he tried to cover the pang of hurt in his heart with an idea. "Well," Thomas said, turning back to Newt, "I guess we'll have to get some more, do it again."

Newt tried to cover the surprised look on his face with a smile. "Yeah, of course. We'll need to go to the store tomorrow anyway, so we can pick some up while we're there. Good thinkin', Tommy."

Thomas smiled back before taking a few more sips of his drink. "So what else are we doing tomorrow?"

Newt shrugged. "I wanted to leave it open, see how the two of us were doing. I know everyone is probably really eager to see us, but if you're not up to it we can see them another time."

Thomas pondered the thought. Despite his nerves, Thomas was beginning to grow more and more excited to get back into his old life. The more he immersed himself, the more he began to feel like everything really could return to normal. "No, it's fine. I want to see everyone."

"I can give them a call tomorrow morning," Newt said, surprise once again showing in his eyes. "But if you change your mind just let me know."

"Okay, I will," Thomas complied.

"Good that."

The two sat there for a while longer, until both of them had finished their drinks. Once they were gone, Newt took the dishes and washed them in the sink. Thomas had made his way over to the couch and sat down, patiently waiting for Newt. And when Newt finally joined him in the other room, he found Thomas standing in front of the coffee table, facing away from the couch. He was staring intently at the wall, and it was clear that something was bothering him.

"Tommy?" Newt asked cautiously, walking over to Thomas' side. "Everything okay?"

Thomas didn't move at first, before slowly turning to face Newt. Newt felt his heart drop when he was met with the same look that Thomas had worn after seeing the picture of the two of them in the bedroom.

"That's yours, isn't it?" Thomas asked faintly.

Newt faced the wall, sighing when he saw what Thomas had been staring at. It was a painting, one that he'd made a few years ago.

"Yes," Newt said nervously, "That's mine."

Thomas turned back to the picture with wide eyes, taking a step closer to see it better. In the picture was a large grassy field, with a patch of trees off to one side and a shack made of wood off on the other. The way the sun was painted made it look like the grass was glowing. And the blue in the sky was so deep and bright that it looked like an ocean.

"That's..." Thomas started, feeling tears begin to prick at his eyes. He felt the same sadness from before creep up again, but Thomas wouldn't let it take a hold. Not again. He couldn't do that to Newt. "That's beautiful, Newt."

And Thomas truly meant what he said. He hadn't seen anything quite like it before.

Newt let out a quiet laugh. The relief in his voice was clear. "Thank you, Tommy." When Thomas continued to stare, Newt spoke again. "It's getting pretty late," He said, taking a step back. "It'd be good if we both got to bed. And if you need _anything_ , please wake me up. I won't get mad, I promise."

"Okay," Thomas said, nodding. He started to make his way towards the couch when Newt spoke again.

"G'night, Tommy," He said softly as he left.

Thomas stared at the doorway he'd just walked through, feeling so many things at once. He tried to brush all of those feelings away, becoming too tired to think anymore. With a yawn, Thomas laid down, letting his whole body relax. He glanced at the door one final time before turning to lay on his side. "Goodnight, Newt."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO MY LOVELIES <3 
> 
> finally a new update! but GOOD NEWS!! i've been writing this story like c r a z y and i'm pretty sure it's already doubled in size....crazy!!! im back and forth as to whether i wanna do more frequent updates with shorter chapters or less frequent updates with longer chapters. any input? PLEASE let me know. 
> 
> also it's past 1:00 in the morning for me rn and i almost fell asleep editing this chapter multiple times...so i will check for grammer once more in the morning to be sure lol (so i apologize in advanced for any major grammar issues haha oops) 
> 
> and as always, happy reading, ily <3


	16. Some Things Never Change

It was dark. He could barely see where he was. 

There was a booming crash, a loud one, right in front of him. Glass shards pelted towards him through the air, and he quickly jerked his arms up to shield his eyes. The world around him began to tremble and shake as he was thrown in all directions. 

Newt reached outwards, his hands desperately searching for anything to grab onto. But a tight pull on his chest stopped him. He was restrained. Bringing his hands to the belt that held him, Newt felt a long diagonal strap across his chest, and another around his waist. 

He was in a car. 

Newt’s eyes widened as a steering wheel materialized in front of him, and on instinct his hands shot out to grasp it. With a white-knuckle grip, Newt pulled with all of his might to turn the wheel, but it wouldn’t budge. There was a screech of tires, a rumble of rubber hitting dirt, and one final, thundering crash that shook the entire car. And then everything went still. 

It was quiet other than the rapid gasps that escaped Newt’s mouth. He slowly scanned the car’s interior, assessing the aftermath of the wreck. The windshield was obliterated and the front of the car was smashed to half its original size, the headlights flickering on and off. Glass shards were scattered all over the dashboard, the floor, his lap. Newt didn't even see _him_ until he glanced over at the passenger seat. 

“…Tommy?” Newt gasped, his stomach dropping as a wave of adrenaline rushed through him at the sight of Thomas’ limp body. There was a deep gash on his head, blood dripping down his face and onto the leather seat and staining it red. 

Thomas needed his help. 

“Hold on, Tommy,” Newt said as he reached out to assess Thomas’ injury. But as he tried, the seat belt around him started to constrict, tightening around his chest. He could feel his heart begin to surge in his chest as he reached down and tugged harshly at the restraints. With an increase in force, Newt yanked again, only to slice his the palm of his hand wide open. 

Newt hissed in pain as he pulled his hand back, holding it in a tight fist against his chest. But the pain quickly receded when Newt looked at Thomas again. The color was draining from his face, the life left in his body along with it. 

Thomas needed him. 

He had to get to Thomas. _He had to_. There was no other option. With a new-found drive, Newt slid his injured hand underneath the belt and pulled with all of his might. An abrupt jerk of his seat stopped him, and when Newt looked up he could see himself moving… _drifting away from Thomas_. 

“No,” Newt gasped as he fought even harder at the restraint over and over again. “No, No, N-“

“Newt?”

Time froze at the voice that came from his side. Newt slowly turned to his right, eyeing the wounded boy that was now out of his reach. His eyes fluttered open as he lifted a bloodied, trembling hand in Newt's direction. 

“Newt,” Thomas whimpered as he grimaced in pain, “Please, help me…”

“I’m here, Tommy!” Newt’s nostrils flared as he gritted his teeth, a groan escaping his mouth as he began to thrash against his belt. The world around them faded away to nothing, leaving them drifting apart into nothingness. “Shit, shit….”

“Newt, please,” Thomas whispered, his eyes once again starting to close as he lost consciousness. 

“Hold on!” Newt cried as he looked to Thomas in desperation, watching helplessly as he faded into the black abyss surrounding them. Tears spilled down his face as he slumped in his seat, his energy spent and drive diminished. “Please Tommy, just…hold on…”

Thomas drew in one last breath as he met Newt’s eyes. “Why, Newt?” Thomas whispered through his cries of pain as a single tear ran down his cheek, “Why didn’t you save me?” 

“Thomas, NO!” Newt screamed as he jolted awake, sweat soaking his back and hair. His eyes frantically darted back and forth, analyzing the room. It was his apartment, he was home. And so was Thomas. Newt, his mouth agape, brought a shaking hand to his chest as he took deep, steadying breathes. 

“Bloody hell,” He groaned, bringing his hands to his face as he rubbed his eyes with his fists. He could still feel his heart racing in his chest as his breathing finally began to slow. Running his hands through his hair, Newt glanced over to the mirror that hung next to the bed. His face was flushed, his eyes wide with shock. 

_It’s your fault you crashed the car. It’s your fault what happened to Thomas._

Newt drew a shaky breath as those familiar words raced through his mind. He could feel the guilt rise up inside him like it always had before, despite Minho’s temporary words of comfort from yesterday. With a sigh, Newt looked directly at his reflection. 

“No,” Newt muttered. In a desperate attempt, Newt tried to replay Minho’s words in his mind again, repeating them over and over until his mind began to clear. “It’s not your fault, it’s not your fault…” 

Not today. Newt wouldn’t let himself feel this way. He _couldn’t_ let himself. Even if he couldn’t do it for himself, he had to do it for Thomas. With one final glance at himself for reassurance, Newt stood and left the room. 

_Not today._

Trying to stay silent, Newt eased out of the room and peeked around the corner into the common area. He sighed with relief at the sight of Thomas still asleep on the couch, glad that he didn’t wake him with his shouts. Newt strolled over to the side of the bed, taking extra care not to make any noise as he bent down to sit on the edge of the bed. 

The sun was just starting to shine through the window in rays that stretched across Thomas’ face. They streamed across his nose, his mouth, his cheeks. Newt paused when his eyes reached the bruises that laced the side of Thomas’ head. The sun made them even more striking, and despite how much they’ve healed, they still gave Newt a feeling of dread as he stared at them. 

Pushing back the nervous wave that ran through his body, Newt placed a gentle hand on Thomas’ shoulder and gave him a light shake. “Tommy, wake up.” 

Thomas’ nose and eyes scrunched for a moment as he sucked in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. His eyes opened, his head turning as he sat up. It took a short time for him to study the room and recall where he was before he locked eyes with Newt. “Hey,” Thomas muttered as he reached his arms out to stretch. 

“Sleep alright?” Newt asked, moving his hand down to give Thomas a few gentle pats on the arm. 

Thomas replied with a small nod, not really sure what to say. The truth was, he didn’t sleep very well. He tossed and turned, constantly drifting in and out of sleep. He remembered he’d dreamt, but as soon as he woke up any memory of them seemed to vanish into thin air. But he didn’t feel the need to tell Newt, he didn’t want him to worry any more than he already does. 

Newt offered him a relieved smile in return, giving Thomas’ arm a quick squeeze before standing. “We don’t have much for breakfast, most of our food went bad while we were gone. Frozen waffles okay?” 

“Yeah,” Thomas answered as he nodded his head again. 

“Good that,” Newt said as he stood and walked over to the kitchenette and went to work. 

Thomas watched him for a bit as his mind drifted elsewhere. All night, he dealt with the fear of what the next day held, of what he was going to face. He hated the feeling of being here, but also feeling like a part of him wasn’t. But what he was scared of most was the possibility that he may never get that part of himself back again. That he may never be the same person he was before. 

_You will never be the same person if you can’t even remember who you are._

His body tensed as those words pulsed through his mind. Thomas hunched over, curling into himself as he sucked a deep breath and held it. He thought back to last night, and as he did the pain came flooding back. Thomas struggled as he pushed away the images of himself crying onto Newt’s shoulder in their bedroom after seeing the picture of them so happy together. To the best of his ability, he honed in on what he told himself when talking to Newt later that evening. 

He couldn’t let the idea of never regaining his old memories hold him back. Not today. The best thing Thomas could do for himself was to try and focus on the present. Making new memories, rather than trying to re-forge the old ones from nothing. 

Almost a minute passed before Thomas released the breath he was holding, repeating only two words to himself again and again until Newt called him over for breakfast. 

Not today. Not today. Not today. 

###### 

After breakfast, Thomas accompanied Newt on a much-needed trip to the grocery store. Newt drove despite Thomas’ protests about his injured leg, but won the argument since he was the only one who knew where the car keys were. 

Thomas took up the job of pushing the grocery cart while Newt walked ahead of it with a long list in his left hand. They weaved through each aisle at a decent pace while Newt expertly snatched everything they needed with fluid ease. Leaning his elbows on the cart handle, Thomas sauntered along, following from behind. Newt had tried to include him by asking which flavors of things he preferred, but Thomas could never come up with an answer and instead responded with an “I don’t care” or “Whatever you want.” 

With a keen eye, Thomas studied every food that Newt placed in the cart, trying his best to learn not only Newt’s taste, but his own as well. He suspected he had a sweet tooth when he got a sudden burst of excitement at the sight of Newt placing a few boxes of cookies and cartons of ice cream into the cart. 

Newt noticed and smiled quietly to himself as he guided Thomas’ cart towards the other side of the store with his free hand. They stocked up on toiletries and medications before Thomas stopped abruptly in his tracks. He veered the cart towards his right and started walking towards the back wall by the windows. Newt didn’t even realize Thomas had left until he threw a glance over his shoulder to find that he was alone. 

“Tommy?” Newt said in a loud voice, “Where’d you go?”

“Over here!” A voice answered from a few aisles away. Newt rolled his eyes as he huffed out a small laughed and followed the sound. He peeked his head around the corner of an aisle just in time to see Thomas slip out of view and down the home decor aisle. 

By the time Newt finally made it over, Thomas already had one potted plant in each hand, looking back at Newt expectantly. “Which one?” He asked, a smile on his face. 

With another laugh, Newt looked back and forth between the plants. One was tall with large, triangular green leaves. The other was shorter with a patch of light yellow flowers scattered between green vines. They were both so beautiful. 

“Well?” Thomas asked as he raised his eyebrows in question, slightly shaking either plant in his hands. 

Newt replied with a shrug. “How about both?” 

The smile on Thomas’ face doubled in size as he nodded and placed both plants in the empty child seat of the cart. With an almost-overflowing grocery cart, Newt guided Thomas to the front of the store where they checked out and paid. 

After arriving back at the apartment, Thomas started to carry their bags to the kitchen and unload them while Newt stepped outside. He was gone for almost ten minutes before he stepped back inside to find Thomas waiting for him to help put everything away. He’d forgotten that Thomas wouldn’t have remembered where to put anything. 

“Shuck, sorry Tommy,” Newt said sheepishly as he quickly walked over to help direct Thomas where to store the food. 

“It’s fine,” Thomas replied as he grabbed the cereal and put it in the cupboard where Newt was pointing. 

“But,” Newt added, looking over his shoulder as he put some cans in another cupboard, “I made a few quick calls while I was outside. If you’re up for it, everyone is free to meet at the park this afternoon for a late lunch.” 

“Really?” Thomas said, pausing as he grabbed some fruit out of a bag. 

“Yeah,” Newt smiled, but it faltered slightly at his next thought. “But only if you feel comfortable with it, Tommy.” 

Thomas looked away, his thoughts drifting back to the day he first met Minho at the hospital. To the picture he’d given him that showed all of his friends together. He tried to think back to each of their faces, to bring about certain details in his mind. It wasn’t difficult. 

There wasn’t always much to do in those hospital rooms, so there were times when Thomas would study the picture at his bedside. Their eyes, their hair, the expressions on their faces. The way they all looked so genuinely happy to be together. He even made Minho quiz him once, so that Thomas could better match everyone’s names to their faces. Minho wasn't allowed to leave that day until he swore to Thomas he'd never tell Newt about that.

But despite knowing who everyone was, Thomas still felt completely disconnected. He didn’t know their voices, their mannerisms, their opinions, or their hobbies. He didn’t know anything that made them _them_. And right now, his desperation to fill that void in his mind greatly outweighed any fear he had of not remembering them from before. 

“Yeah,” Thomas answered as he looked back up towards Newt, “I…I want to see them.” 

Thomas could see a relieved look grow in Newt’s eyes as he shut the cupboards and held out a box of chocolate chip cookie mix in front of him. “Well,” He said, taking a step towards Thomas, “We can’t show up empty-handed now can we?” 

In a matter of minutes, the pair had the rest of the groceries cleared and replaced with all of the necessary ingredients to prepare the cookies. Bowls, spoons, and measuring cups were all scattered throughout the kitchen, covering the counter surface completely. “Alright,” Newt said as he leaned over to pre-heat the oven, “First thing is…to mix these and…these.” 

With the recipe in one hand, Newt grabbed the sugar, eggs, butter, and vanilla from the cabinets and fridge as he read each ingredient aloud. Next, he swiftly snatched the correct measuring tools as he opened the sugar and looked over at Thomas. “The next step is to mix the flour, salt, and baking soda in a separate bowl. Mind doing that?” 

“Sure,” Thomas replied before stopping in his tracks. “Uh, where is the-?”

“All three should be in that bottom cabinet down there,” Newt smiled softly as he nodded his head towards the cabinet doors behind him. 

Thomas bent down and retrieved all three ingredients at once and carried them back towards the counter next to Newt. He stole a quick glance at the ingredient sheet over Newt’s shoulder, memorizing how much of each ingredient he’d need. With a steady hand, Thomas carefully measured out three fourths of a teaspoon of baking soda and one teaspoon of salt before pouring them into the bowl Newt gave to him. 

Finally, Thomas unrolled the large bag of flour and grabbed enough measuring cups to measure out three cups of flour. He dunked the cup into the bag and tossed some flour into the large bowl, and did the same again. But on the last cup, Thomas’ sleeve got caught on the bag and his flour went tumbling down to the floor. 

“Shit,” Thomas muttered as he held out his arms to assess the damage. The flour peppered almost his entire shirt as well as the floor in a one foot radius around him. 

Newt’s head jerked up at the sound of the plastic measuring cup clattering on the floor, only to choke back a laugh and shake his head. His attempt, however, was unsuccessful as Newt broke out into laughter as he eyed Thomas’ flour-coated shirt. 

Thomas looked down sheepishly, arms folded across his chest, as a blush started to form on his cheeks. “Shit, I’m sorry, I-“

“Oh, no no no,” Newt cooed as he rushed over and gingerly placed his hands on Thomas’ shoulders. “I wasn’t laughing at you, Tommy. It’s just that some things never change, I guess.” 

Thomas frowned, “What do you mean?”

His smile growing, Newt gave Thomas’ shoulders a gentle squeeze and a few pats. “This is nothing new, Tommy,” Newt paused and lifted his flour-covered hand and dabbed his finger on Thomas’ nose, leaving a small bit of flour there. “You’ve always been this clumsy.” 

Thomas huffed out a laugh, and lifted a hand to scratch the back of his head. He prayed the flour on his face cover the ever-growing blush on his cheeks. He looked back up at Newt with his head cocked to the side and eyebrows raised in surprise. “Really?”

“Let’s just say you’re the reason I had to buy a first aid kit for the apartment,” Newt replied, releasing Thomas before stepping back in front of his bowl. 

With a surprised shake of his head, Thomas let out another laugh. He pulled his hand in to wipe the flour off of his nose, and stared at it on his finger for a moment before glancing down at his shirt. Slowly, Thomas reached down and wiped his hand across his shirt a few times and then raised it just behind Newt. Flicking his hand, Thomas sent flour all along the side of Newt’s head and shoulder. Thomas had to stifle his laugh as he watched Newt freeze and slowly turn to face him.

Newt lifted his hand and wiped a streak of flour off of his face, and pulled it back to observe it. A smirk grew on his face as he taunted, “So that’s how you wanna play, eh Tommy?” 

Newt and Thomas both dove for the bag of flour, shooting their hands inside and playfully shoving each other to grab more. The pair laughed and yelled wildly as they chucked flour at each other, engulfing each other and the kitchen almost completely. Flour flew through the air in streaks of white as it started to ascend like smoke.

As the pair started to run out of flour, their laughs died down and the white dust began to settle on the floor, counters, and stove. Thomas was breathing heavily now, staring back at Newt with a bright smile on his face. He laughed at the sight of them, clutching flour in their hands and completely covered from head to toe like children. 

He felt happy. 

For the first time since…well, since he could remember. Thomas genuinely felt happy. And for the briefest moment, so short he’d almost missed it, Thomas had forgotten everything that happened. He didn’t think about the car accident, their injuries, his memory loss, his fear…they all vanished in that instant. 

Thomas closed his eyes, clinging to the carefree feeling he’d just had, wanting to hold onto it for as long as he could. Is this what it was like before the accident? Is this what he was missing out on? But as quickly as it had disappeared, a sudden wave of fear rushed through Thomas’ body. What if meeting his and Newt’s friends tonight set him back, just like seeing the apartment did? What if it just reminds him of everything that he’s missing? 

…What if this feeling he had was only temporary? Able to be experienced for a few brief moments, but ultimately unattainable? Maybe there was always going to be something to set Thomas back again once he thought he’d move forward and improved. Thomas took a deep breathe, trying to convince himself that it couldn’t be true. In order to get better, he had to believe that it wouldn’t always be this way. Not today. That soon, he wouldn’t have the same fears he does now. 

_Not today, not today, not today._

When Thomas opened his eyes, he found Newt standing right in front of him. The boy’s smile began to fade into a look of concern as he stared back into Thomas’ eyes. 

“Hey,” Newt nearly whispered as he reached out and took Thomas’ hand in his, “What’s wrong?”

Thomas hesitated. “I’m trying not to be, but...I'm scared for tonight.” 

Newt gave Thomas an encouraging and understanding smile. “I'm nervous too, it's alright to feel that way after what we've been through.” 

With a few quick nods, Thomas tried to wipe away the worried look on his own face with a smile in return. “I know.” 

Newt’s own smile grew as he pulled up Thomas’ hand and gave it a quick kiss before nudging Thomas over to the bathroom so they could clean up before. He looked up from the counter as he continued to prepare the cookies despite the mess. He gave Thomas a wink as he warned him, “If we’re late to our own welcome home party, I’m blaming you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've decided to post slightly longer chapters with less frequent updates, which works much better with my schedule (Especially once school starts again lol)
> 
> Thanks for all the love, everyone!!! I wouldn't still be writing this without you <3
> 
> Happy reading, lovelies!!


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